Friday, November 25, 2011

Touch of the OCDs


Lovely Husband has a mild, self-diagnosed, case of the OCDs. His manifests in piles of things: short stacks that must be perfectly square and aligned. What is interesting to me is that there are many stacks, not just one single tall pile. That brain of his, I love it so but I don't understand it.


While cleaning out my bookmarks list, I found a link to 'Things Organised Neatly' on another website that I hadn't visited for a few months. Some of these photos would certainly appeal to Lovely Husband, but I'm not sure if I should show him or not.


 Photo source: Things Organized Neatly

The indignities

Hello fat sausage fingers; goodbye wedding ring.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

52 Poems (week 35 & 36)

Week 35

I've somehow become a fan of Oscar Wilde without ever really reading any Oscar Wilde. I just hear snippets and intertextual references and love him by default. But having read some of his poems, including this one 'The Harlot's House', perhaps I like him even more.

We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.
 
Inside, above the din and fray,
We heard the loud musicians play
The "Treues Liebes Herz" of Strauss.
 
Like strange mechanical grotesques,
Making fantastic arabesques,
The shadows raced across the blind.
 
We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.
 
Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille.
 
The took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their laughter echoed thin and shrill.
 
Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.
 
Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.
 
Then, turning to my love, I said,
"The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust."
 
But she--she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust.
 
Then suddenly the tune went false,
The dancers wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.
 
And down the long and silent street,
The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet,
Crept like a frightened girl.

Week 36


Okay, so this poem from Alice in Wonderland is technically part of a novel, but I think it still counts as a Lewis Carroll poem. There was a quote from it at the front of a novel I was reading so I searched it out. The last line is a bit of a problem because Alice is interrupted in her recitation by the Mock Turtle, but the ending is generally assumed to be "...eating the owl"

'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair."
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark;
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.
I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie:
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon;
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by ---

The indignities


Several times in the last few months I've startled Lovely Husband awake with my agonised groans and gasps, clutching at my calf muscle as another leg cramp hits. I had talked to the midwives and the pharmicist and was upping my dairy intake (for the calcium) and taking a magnesium supplment to try and prevent them. I hadn't had another since starting this regime last month but this morning, I got jolted awake with that familiar feeling again. My calf muscle was bulging and was probably the most well defined it's ever been. And now it'll be sore for a day or two. Sigh.

Photo source: calf muscle

Watching the bump (33 weeks)

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Watching the bump (32 weeks)

The Sweet-pea wilds

A week lost to the hospital system

I had good intentions and post planned and then Lovely Husband announced his only plan last Saturday was to go to the Emergency Department of the local hospital. Okay, it wasn't so much a verbal announcement as it was perhaps the interpretive dance of his writhing on the bed in agony. I spent six hours on an uncomfortable plastic chair next to his bedside while they kept him topped up with pain medication and ummed and ahhhed about what was actually wrong with him. Finally (and after six months, really, of misdiagnosis), a surgeon was called in to consult: "off with his gall bladder". He was admitted that night for further scans and surgery in the morning. I bought a weekly pass for the parking lot, which turned out to be highly prescient, given they kept him in a state of Nil By Mouth and doped to the eyeballs on endone and morphine for four days before the scheduling of both the surgeon and the operating theatres collided. I spent the days at work then traipsing off to his ward to wait on the surgeon who never came, to wait for the operation that never came, each evening. Finally, finally, they pulled that sucker out. I know, because I watched the video.


 

 

 

Saturday, November 5, 2011

New songs on a Saturday morning (281-290)

As part of my ongoing effort to improve the range of my cultural consumption, I'm casting out for new things to listen to. Part one and an explanation of this musical escapade can be found here. You'll need to search for the rest yourselves.

Someone in my mum-to-be group posted this video, and oh man, it made me a little teary. Our little bubs is a boy but it still gets me, right there.


281. Ed Sheeran - 'Small Bump' (Acoustic). Love his cute ranga joke.
282. Ed Sheeran - 'You need me, I don't need you' - Had a listen to a few of his other songs after seeing the one above and really dig the accent of his singing voice. Also love the simpler songs.
283. Ed Sheeran - 'The A-Team'.
284. Ed Sheeran - 'Little Lady'.
285. Ed Sheeran - 'Wayfaring Stranger' - fantastic!
286. Johnny Cash - 'Wayfaring Stranger' - also fantastic.
287. We Are Augustines - 'Chapel Song' - pretty average and uninspiring.
288. We Are Augustines - 'Book of James' - similar to the one before but somehow much better. Weird.
289. Bombay Cycle Club - 'Lights Out, Words Gone' - sweet, simple.
290. Neil Young - 'Long May You Run' - caught this during the week and it stuck with me.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

52 Poems (week 34)

There are posters around for the new movie Anonymous, so I thought a little Marlowe was appropriate. Even more appropriate was the poem title, 'I Must Have Wanton Poets'.


I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,
Musicians, that with touching of a string
May draw the pliant king which way I please:
Music and poetry is his delight;
Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night,
Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows;
And in the day, when he shall walk abroad,
Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad;
My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns,
Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay;
Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,
With hair that gilds the water as it glides,
Crownets of pearl about his naked arms,
And in his sportful hands an olive-tree,
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by,
One like Act├Žon, peeping through the grove,
Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd,
And running in the likeness of an hart,
By yelping hounds pull'd down, shall seem to die:
Such things as these best please his majesty.

Picture source: Marlowe

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...