The Sublime of the Ancient Beagle…

While we run around shopping; wrapping; singing, working; driving in circles wondering where the store entrance or parking lot exit is; stuffing the down comforter into the duvet (what the heck kind of an exercise is that, anyway?; while we write clever tags, try to tie knots that don’t slip even tho’ the ribbon is satinesque; through it all….the beagle finds solace in something soft, and this time, with a holiday message!

Coming soon: the beagle explains why Oh has been inconsistent in her blog presence, er, presents, nope, that’s presence.

Happy Holidays, all!

December 14 … a stop on the Virtual Advent Tour

 The Virtual Advent tour first started five years ago when Kailana of The Written Word and Marg at Adventures of an Intrepid Reader wondered why the kids should have all the fun of opening a box on the advent calendar and finding a treat in there, and how could they create some blogging fun with a similar concept? So the Virtual Advent tour was born.

Each day participants take turns sharing a treat with friends here in blogland. Maybe it’s about family traditions, recipes, a country’s holiday traditions, or a favourite Christmas memory, movie, book, song…anything. In fact, it’s for all holidays celebrated this time of year. Click on the Reindeer Tag to the right to see other wonderful sites to visit during this blog-ventful tour!

Herein a bit about some of our family traditions from the sentimental to the sublime.

1)  Reading aloud A CHRISTMAS CAROL by Dickens has been a family tradition for more than 17 years, from when Snarl was 4 and Nor,9.  It began when we moved to STL.  We’d begin after Thanksgiving, cozied around the fireplace, HM and I taking turns reading. And then Nor wanted to participate.  Snarl , always opting for parity, caught on by the third year in part because he’d already memorized some of it. But his “fake” reading turned to real reading right before our eyes. Thank you, Mr. Dickens, for growing a story that wraps up a family in holiday meaning and spirit from Stave I to Stave 3’s last famous line  “And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!”

2) Decorating the mantle. I didn’t realize ’til just this evening what a tradition this is. I was going for “elegant” this year, sort of “stripped  down”  in terms of appearance, using only white and gold, more of a designer look. It didn’t work. I found it cold.
So I’ve gone back, popped the lights onto the mantle, and added the lovely flotsam and jetsma of Xmases past and present that makes it warmer. Spirited. Maybe romantic.

3) We also WATCH Dickens’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL. Yes, we read it, but we also watch it. OK, sometimes it’s on as background, but it’s there.We did, during the VHS era, own every version at that time. Now in DVD world, we are once again working the collection though  we are all, oddly, loathe to add the Jim Carey version. Haven’t fallen in love with that one yet..

And this is the time of year we refer to HM as “Fezziwig.” It’s his innate merriness and willingness to set aside the mundane and celebrate the season. And he specializes at pouring the ‘nog and setting out trays of nibblies.

4)  These are not in order. I forgot to mention Black Friday when Nor and I head out early to the stores. We go without lists; we go to stroll, see what strikes us, observe, get ideas and enjoy. We might buy a new Christmas decoration or jigsaw puzzle. We might stumble across the perfect gift for someone.Then we go out to breakfast.

5) Wreathmaking! We take a “class” yearly at the Botanical Garden where you show up looking a little holiday-ish if you like and are given everything needed, along with a lesson and tips on creating a gorgeous all-natural wreath.  This year, needing to attend a weeknight rather than weekend class, we were out in the proverbial “middle of nowhere” at one of MoBot’s locales, at a hunting lodge. It was like something out of a movie, lit inside with Christmas lights, smelling of pine and fir, a huge table to work at and buckets of natural branches and grasses to use in our wreaths. And at one point during the evening, 30 strangers making wreaths burst into song. Loved it. We took my Mom this year as well. (see why we call HM “Fezziwig?”)

6) Concerts at the Cathedral have long been a family fave but our beloved Cathedral music director recently moved to Philly (much to his good professional fortune) and so we have turned elsewhere for finding Christmas music and entertainment. But there will be at least once if not several trips to the Cathedral nonetheless.

I don’t intend to bore or cause a snore; yet I could stitch together more little stories, so many  moments about setting up our creche and missing the shepherd who must have wandered off; of hanging up the stockings and trying to figure out whose is whose; of  inadvertently opening the wrong window on the advent calendar and having to then swtich places or lose a turn in line; of staying up to wrap and seeing the Christmas Eve service in Rome…
 
That is the blessed things about each family, right? There are so many things, so many expressions and phrases, so many foods and fun things that happen year long and then whoosh, it’s Christmas when every loving detail is heightened, and everything takes on that rich friends-and-family patina, that shine of love.

To you and yours, a very Merry Christmas!
To you and yours, the happiest of Holidays!

Peace.

Part of the home for the holidays…

Part of the holiday deco… a tea towel found on vacation.

holiday warm…

There is still a great deal of decorating to be done, mostly because the household loves Christmas, loves living in the midst of it, the green, the gold, the red, the reindeer, the Christmas trees, the angels, the creche, the fire in the hearth.

But tonight, having written a few cards and strung lights on the balcony and enjoyed a long lunch at a cantina after a week of full tilt corporate projects and really early mornings alone in the kitchen, writing, writing, writing ’til the freelance piece was handed in yesterday, tonight I’m recharging, writing notes to old friends and just saying “hey” out there in Blogworld.

Book Recommend:
One of the bookshelves in my office just fell apart as I tried to move it just a little to center it under a painting. Fell. Completely. Apart.
Annoyed I have sworn not to ever buy one of those DIY things again. It’s already out back by the garbage can. And every book on it is stacked in one of three giant stacks agains the wall where the shelf was.  What’s my point? I can’t think of a book at the moment. I can’t think of one that should join this stack. Surely by morning, my bookshelf-failure-and-concomitant-mess- annoyance will have dissipated. I am somewhat concerned that this is a sign that I shouldn’t have anymore books. Til I’ve read all the ones I have.  That can’t be, can it?
OK, ok, who are we kidding here? But I’m going to go a little off track and rather than a book, mention a magazine.
Martha Stewart’s LIVING December 2010 issue.
Just got it yesterday to celebrate being out at lunch with a writer friend.
Will I do any of the recipes within?
Will I set the table just so, copying the pages?
Maybe, maybe not.
But a holiday magazine is a powerful indulgence and I recommend it, whether you’re an Art, a Lifestyle, a Crafts, a Lit or a Hollywood magazine lover, this is the month to have one; they’re all glitzy and decked out.

winter knocks and enters…

Pine in early fall, photographed at Big Cedar.

Pine in (very) earlyDecember (using photo filter to imagine how it will look when winter touches it).

We had flurries last night.
The air is dry and cold and hand cream is already necessary.

A  winter note…on wearing mittens and lipstick:
Don’t wear both. One gets stuck in the other, when for instance, you cover your mouth when you sneeze outdoors, or if you were to take a warming swipe at your cold nose, or if you’re brushing crumbs from your mouth. (Why are you eating outside, with mittens on?)

Anyway, all those tiny little mitten hairs love to stick to lipstick. And lipstick loves to implant itself among those luxurious mitten fibers.
So if forced to choose between the two, I’d have to take…gloves.

All over the (writing) map…thank you, French press coffee!

(photo of napkin ring used at Thanksgiving table. … because at this time of year, I get all lodge-y and cabin-y and haul out things like our Hudson Bay blanket and LL Bean bomber hats and I especially adore Christmas decorations that have to do with bears and deer (esp “rein” ones),  and love chunky candles and crackling fires in the fireplace…I miss the Adirondack and Green mountain roads I grew up on, but HM indulges me with forays into the Missouri countryside as we hunt for that perfect country store…yesterday it was Three French Hens, which is gorgeous, but it is a long way from “country!”)

When I lived in Maine, I had moose insurance on my car. Probably a good thing. I drove a VW beetle at that time. (yes, um, that was quite some time ago.) I didn’t know HM yet, but he was there, cruising up and down the east coast from Maine to Maryland, playing rock music with his band at the time.

Are we writing today?
Oh yeah. Working on an article. Wrote for 90 minutes. Nearly organized and ready to “take off” on it, but as many know, writing needs moving around, letting things come together (or fall apart!) and waiting for the title to shake out, even the structure (tho’ I think I have that.)

And then…and then I get to finish a journal and start a new one! Rewards work for me. Deadlines, and rewards. Ah, but getting to choose a “new” journal from the shelf, be it 99 cent notebook that was on sale or a gift from someone that knows I can never have too many journals…this choosing is a delight. (It also means I’ll “cheat” on the last few pages of the one I’m about to finish, and may write larger or glue some pictures in there or make lists…)

Book “Rec”:
(Please note that we tend to abbreviate things in this family, partly for the challenge of knowing what the other is talking about, and partly to make the others laugh. Anyway, Book Rec should not be confused with Book Wreck. Rec is for Recommendation while Book Wreck, tho’ I’ve not used it yet, not wishing to do negative reviews, would be rather obvious I guess, to describe a book that just wasn’t working out.) 

GRAMMAR GIRL’S QUICK AND DIRTY TIPS FOR BETTER WRITING by Mignon Fogarty
This one is fun and makes certain rules we trip over far easier to remember. Actually, I enjoy her podcasts even more, but the book is far more portable. Aside from the compelling title, this is a helpful little tome and a decent companion, especially when you’re adrift (stalled on paper) and need a little something of writerly, albeit somewhat academic, interest.
But there’s the rub; this isn’t hardcore erudition as Strunk and White can seem. This is grammar here and now and not at all dull. Can’t imagine, however, that they would allow this in the school system, just because of the title.

Beginning with thanks…

The Holiday begins with Thanksgiving. Not purposely.
But really, it’s the eve of eves.
It’s the holiday of holidays, with feasting and remembering, thanking and praising.
I love it. I love Thanksgiving more and more, more than I remember from last year and the year before that:
   the creativity of being in the kitchen after days and days and days in corporate settings and deadlines
   the family around, hooting and laughing and reminiscing and tasting things and trying things on the stack of  platters that translate from pantry to pieces of art stacked with food on the table (and I wish everyone could come to share in it)
   the dogs so polite, staying close but remembering what “back up” and “go!” mean
   the ease of cooking, in fact the enjoyment of it when one has time
   looking at HM across the room and silent affirmation of thanks for being able to put on a Thanksgiving production
   having Christmas music on the sounds system and holiday movies (sometimes on mute) playing on the TV
   calling friends and family and going long on the conversations and making plans
   emailing e-cards even tho’ yeah, we’ll be doing the hand-written ones, but this is the first blush of the holiday season and it’s silly not to effervesce
   Skype-ing with friends and family and getting a video tour thus of my brother’s house
   unplugged, not thinking (in a pressured way) about decorations or shopping or anything. Just putting out piles of things, like celery sticks and sliced cukes with Ranch dip and stuffed dates, three kinds of olives, and cheese & prosciutto roll ups and slices of cinnamon cake and wait, what? egg nog? oh, yes please, pour me some, thanks, the turkey isn’t ready yet, but all the other things are done and clapping in their pots, waiting….

Scenes from Lochcrest today.
Happy Thanksgiving to all. Thank you for every single thing and for all of you.

(photo using the “backlit” filter)
Always first up on the stove top T’Day morning – the fresh cranberries, boiling and bursting and gorgeously red

Steamy in the kitchen, freezing outside.

hmmmm…snow trumps outdoor hors d’oeuvres…

(photo using the “sketch” filter)
the dining room, getting set for the feast

Snarl, showing the Ancient Beagle some love

The write book at the write time…

Timing is everything.
And this book was there on my “library” stack just as I was about to flee the house rather than face down an impending deadline on a very short piece that’s giving me nothing but trouble.

HOW I WRITE   THE SECRET LIVES OF AUTHORS, edited by Dan Crowe with Philip Ottermann; Rizzoli, New York: copyright 2007  was just the bridge I needed.
It’s almost coffee-table size, but not. It fits upright on a standard book shelf.
The white cover has a giant bracket with a list of all the authors inside who will be divulging.
The paper stock is superior, holds the imprint perfectly and the photos and drawings within are so book-ish, colorful, sometimes b&w, hugely appealing. To a bookaholic little writer. 

There’s a Kafka quote just inside from his diary , 24 December 1910: “I had a close look at my desk just now and realized that it just wasn’t designed for quality writing.”

When you sit in a place long enough, you become very sensitive and particular about your tools – from the paper to the pen to the keyboard to the furniture you’re using.

Anyway, here’s the thing. The authors within this book are not dishing on how to write. They are talking in paragraphs about what one thing they keep around, what objects icons, totems, rituals, souvenirs or symbols they keep present as they write. And why. It’s all in their words, on one page, maybe two, with great fonts and graphics. And photos.
They’re funny, interesting, serious and sentimental.

 
The editors have compiled a fine work here, a glimpse into writing life. It could be a glimpse into any profession which might be equally as compelling. But on this morning when I’ve promised myself I’d snap this laptop shut by noon and be finished with my doggerel, this book is just the oomph I needed on my way to meeting a deadline.

And it would be nice on (my) coffee table. Along with some coffee, of course. (Are you listening, Santa?) 

Here’s a peak at some of the pages.
I am not familiar with the author (above) but after reading his entry, have decided he’s an excellent story-teller and character writer. The “stovchen” refers to the little stove under the cup in the picture; it keeps the tea in the cup warm while he writes. (You’re going to love his entry in this book.)

I don’t know Will Self, either (do I?), but love his writing method and his Post-its all put into “zones” and then it all turns into a book.

Jane Smiley might be a Pisces. I have to look that up (not that I’m zodiac-ally inclined) but the water thing could just be an indication. Her piece is so good.  You’ll hear her better in her books if you take a look at this entry.

Bourdain is brash, honest (tho’ I always feel he’s doing it for the camera, like Madonna) but this is a good piece. His “thing”, btw, is cigarettes. So ’50s.

Nothing like a shadowy pub full of characters to pump the “noir” in any crime… Ian Rankin is the UK’s no. 1 crime-writer/ seller. But oh, how we all love our English pubs!

There are plenty more, approximately 70 authors included in this book. But it’s not encyclopedic, nor is it even a tad boring. Love the format. Love the stories, true stories all.
Enjoy.

Cling-ons…

Yesterday morning, in the light, the mums were still there.
Not even being brave,
they were just being.

Nearly Thanksgiving and there they were still,
still flowering, not frosted.
Neither browned nor blacked by the the cold fingers of creeping winter.
Just purple-pink.
Just themselves,
not even thinking about it.
Not  thinking about the coming cold and snowball of holidays.

Just sitting there and doing that one thing.
Being.

Birds for Writers…

BIRDS AT TWILIGHT
photo taken on University Ave in Columbia, MO by DCL

We know that birds are terrortiorial and not all sweetness and light. They fight, they’re bitchy, they squawk (cheep) and holler (caw). But they sing and warble and trill, and they soar.

We watch them, love them and wonder what it would be like if one would eat from our hand, maybe sit momentarily on our palm and let us sense the down of its feathers and wait for the quiver of its hearbeat, ’til it flies off.

Birds have been the topic of a writers for ages.
Consider:

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott  (you’ve heard many rave about this one. It deserves it, from a writer’s point of view). She also has a novel called Imperfect Birds. (didn’t know that.)

The Birds (movie) by Alfred Hitchcock (nope. watching it once was enough. I don’t like seeing the birds turn even though overall, it was mob mentality. nope, once was enough )

Book of Dead Birds by Gail Brandeis (I mentioned this one more than  a dozen blog entries ago) and I did start reading it but I’ll tell ya, it’s different and I had to reread the first 10 pages several times to see what was going on. Anyway, I’ll report more on it later. It’s good. Disturbing in its way, but good.

Birds of America by Lorrie Moore (short stories – excellent)

Birds of America by John James Audubon (the quintessnetial guide. Takes up serious bookshelf real estate, though.)

Bye Bye Birdie (movie)  Not one darn thing to do with birds. Threw it in here for fun. It’s a 1963 musical directed by George Sidney. Fun? yeah. Interesting cast including Dick van Dyke, Janet Leigh and Ann-Margret.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. If you can think about this book/story without thinking about Gregory Peck, you’re ahead of the game. It’s also telling, that Harper Lee was friends with Truman Capote. Writers that hung out together. Who woulda guessed?

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. Disturbing. Not the friendliest  bird in town. And then there’s that bit about the ravens at the Tower of London.

Icarus and Daedalus – myth. But who doesn’t think, at least once, about how cool it would be to actually fly?

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. 1969, coming of age story – would we now call it “memoir”? Nevetheless, an autobiography, from victim to self assured woman. Resonates.

The Wind Up Bird Chronicle by Murakami.. Haven’t read it. But Bellezza inspired me to get as far as buying it so it’s on the TBR stack and I’m grateful.

Blackbird from the Beatles’ White Album. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night…take these broken wings and learn to fly…” Of course you know the words.

The above are just the tip of the iceberg in terms of “birds” and lit/songs/screenplays/poetry.
Read or seen anything with “birds” in it lately?

May your Muse take flight with you on board.