Poem for Today

Cliche

by Billy Collins, Questions About Angels

My life is an open book. It lies here
on a glass table top, its pages shamelessly exposed,
outspread like a bird with hundreds of thin paper wings.

It is a biography, needless to say,
and I am reading and writing it simultaneously
in a language troublesome and private.
Every reader must be a translator with a thick lexicon.

No one has read the whole thing but me
most dip into the middle for a few paragraphs,
then move on to the other shelves, other libraries.
Some have time only for the illustrations.

I love to feel the daily turning of the pages,
the sentences unwinding like string,
and when something really important happens,
I walk out to the edge of the page
and, always the student,
make an asterisk, a little star, in the margin.

Glenn

My Great-Grandfather Glenn was born 117 years ago today, on

February 27, 1891 in Ervin Twp., Howard Co., Indiana. This picture

was taken when Glenn worked for J. C. Boyd Grocers in

Albuquerque, New Mexico, in 1911 when he met my Great-

Grandmother Ida Belle, a native of Escambia Co., Alabama. Ida

told me that they met in Boyd's Grocery neara big bunch of

hanging bananas! Both of their families had loved ones who were ill

and moved west for the benefit of the dry climate. Glenn was an

unassuming little man who enjoyed photography and did free lance

printing on his own press. I have fond memories of him taking me

out to his pear tree and asking me to point to the pear of my choice,

then holding me up to let me do the picking.

No pear, since then, has tasted so heavenly.

Fowl With Pearls

A few years ago, I was browsing in a shop and found the most
unusual, quirky card. It pictured a rabbit standing on its ears
in a storefront window, next to a mannequin, and a crowd
gathering outside. It was so wonderfully surreal. Seeing how
much I loved the card, the lady in the shop referred me to a book
by the artist, Michael Sowa, called Sowa's Ark. It is full of his

beautifully crafted works, which are absurd, and yet deeply
fascinating. His paintings have all the craftsmanship and qualities
of a fine art painting, which is part of the charm. My daughter
recently sent me this blank card, Sowa's "Fowl With Pearls",
with a few silly things written inside. I have it out on my bulletin

board and it gives me a chuckle every time I see it!

Lemon Dressing

One of my special readers was asking for my lemon
salad dressing recipe. I will have to give credit to
Ina Garten for the basic recipe. It is so incredibly
simple and you can adjust it easily. I ususally make
half this recipe for two or three people. It doesn't keep
well in the fridge, but then, there is never any left!
We love this so much that I never buy bottled salad
dressing.

juice of two freshly squeezed lemons
1/2 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground pepper

(for a sweet variation, add a tablespoon or
two of honey)

Whisk this together in a small bowl and serve over
fresh mixed lettuce. Speaking of lettuce, last year
I purchased a salad spinner, and now I cannot live
without it. You can wash your lettuce well and then
spin it completely dry, so the dressing will stick to the
leaves. It is a great gadget. My daughter told me about
someone who takes theirs with them when they travel...
I'm not to that point yet. ;)

Birthday Girl

My dear uncle just called me and happened to
mention that today was Edna St. Vincent Millay’s birthday.
Since she is one of my favorite poets, I have to squeeze in a
little blog on her tonight, while it is still her day. She was the
first woman to ever win the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1923.
Her poetry is absolutely dazzling. I read an excellent biography
on her a few years ago called Savage Beauty by Nancy Milford.
I also enjoy collecting vintage copies of her books of poetry.

Her best-known poem is probably "First Fig" from A Few Figs

From Thistles:

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!

Millay was born February 22, 1892. Happy Birthday Edna,

you were a lovely light!

Stroke of Genius

Paul Cezanne (1839-1906) was a French Post-Impressionist

painter. He is one of my many favorites. I love his wonderful use of

color and design. His portraits and self-portraits are what I enjoy most.

Today I am posting his Protrait of Victor Chocquet, a French patron of

the arts, and Portrait of the Artist's Father, Louis Auguste Cezanne,

Reading. They are a contrast; the movement, color and rugged feel

of the brushstrokes of the first and the smooth more stylized look

with subdued grays and blacks of the second. I like the expression

captured on his father's face...I imagine some intimate father/son

chat during the session! He seems pleased and also a bit shy to be

sitting for a portrait by his son. And he definitely looks French in

his little black beret and house shoes. Stay tuned...you will see

more blog from me on this artist....

"When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God-made

object like a tree or a flower. If it clashes, it is not art." Paul Cezanne

Mr. Lincoln

As you might have guessed from my Lincoln quote, I love Abraham
Lincoln! I spent a lot of time at my grandmother's house when I was
little. She had an old Lincoln National Life Insurance print of
Lincoln hanging above her piano. To her, he was never "Abraham
Lincoln" or "President Lincoln", he was just "Mr. Lincoln". So, as a girl,
I grew to have a personal attachment to this Mr. Lincoln, who hung in
the living room, like a special uncle or grandfather. This gave me a
unique fondness for Lincoln and I read just about any book I can find on
him. I somehow feel I know him. Several years ago, I was thrilled to be
given that same "Mr. Lincoln" and he now hangs in our dining room, a
special part of my family. So, as we celebrate Presidents' Day,
Happy Birthday, Mr. Lincoln!

Signal Trees

I love trees and am very sad when an old one dies or is cut down. Last year we lost our old "Indian Tree" and I felt a great loss. It was a huge sugar maple that was bent into its zigzag shape about 200 years ago by American Indians. They are actually called signal trees and they were used by the Indians as guideposts in the deep woods. It was bent into shape when it was a sapling and held in place with a leather rope. When the leather rotted away, the tree was permanently growing in the desired position. The tree was pointing toward the river, so my guess is that the Indians were marking that route. I'm glad we were able to enjoy this beautiful and unique bit of history for the last 20 years at Willow Manor. Our Indian Tree will be sadly missed.

I am posting a picture of it in winter, and after it was damaged by storm, along with my little second cousin, Carter.

George Tooker

I am going to go ahead and post this today, since it's perfect for

Valentine's Day. I love George Tooker's work. He sometimes uses

colored pencil for that nice soft magical effect. Chris Van Allsburg's

illustrations are a little similar. Lunch is one of my favorite Tooker

works....it is in the Columbus Museum of Art. I could look at it for hours!

Valentines Day

I made creme brulee for Valentine's dinner.... it turned out so pretty,
I had to add it to the blog! :)




Hummm...how do I jump from Othello to Valentine's Day?
Well, Ophelia does mention the holiday in Shakespeare's Hamlet
when she says, "Tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day". So, the
celebration of this day has been around for quite a few years!!
I enjoy collecting vintage cards. My favorite Valentine card is this
sweet one. She looks like my niece Caroline! The card dates from the
1930's or so. On the back, a child has written in pencil, "To George
Earl Hulling from Rinnair Pollitt". I would love to know the story this
bit of history holds. Her name sounds French…was she new to
America? Did she have a crush on little George? Did she choose this
card especially for him? I imagine them sneaking shy peeks at each
other across the classroom.

And as a small aside, my world traveler’s fourth great grandfather
was Valentine Gates. Wonder if Valentine’s Day was extra special
to him? ;)

Sing Willow, Willow, Willow

Speaking of willows, that is a perfect segue into Othello! I just watched Anthony Hopkins in the role in the 1981 BBC production. He was, as he always is, fabulous!! This 1981 version is extremely well done. The whole series of Shakespeare productions are available in DVD sets, grouped in Tragedy, Comedy and History. I checked out the single DVD from our library. I am partial to this Shakespeare play because my world traveler performed a condensed version in a college recital, way back in 1976! ;) The 1995 film is great, too. I love the part where Irene Jacob, who plays the part of Desdemona, sings The Willow Song. It is a very touching scene, since she is completely unaware of her impending doom. Here's the lyrics:

A poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all the green willow,
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow.

The fresh streams ran by her and murmur'd her moans,
Her salt tears ran from her and soften'd the stones,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
Sing all a green willow must be in my garland,
Sing willow, willow, willow.

The fresh streams ran by her and murmur'd her moans,
Her salt tears ran from her and soften'd the stones,
Sing willow, willow, willow.
Sing all a green willow must be in my garland,
Sing willow, willow, willow.