<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748</id><updated>2012-02-20T05:55:49.840-05:00</updated><category term='ono'/><category term='chiggers'/><category term='beatles'/><category term='billy collins'/><category term='memories'/><category term='magnus organ'/><category term='chestnut tree'/><category term='betrayal'/><category term='libraries'/><category term='1984'/><title type='text'>Starling's Balm Carousel</title><subtitle type='html'>A sterling lamb casserole.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-401339410376025222</id><published>2009-06-23T07:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T07:59:42.561-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chestnut tree'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1984'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='betrayal'/><title type='text'>"Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me..."</title><content type='html'>"I betrayed you," she said baldly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I betrayed you," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gave him another quick look of dislike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes," she said, "they threaten you with something -- something you can't stand up to, can't even think about.  And then you say 'Don't do it to me, do it to somebody else, do it to so-and-so.' And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you had just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it.  But that isn't true.  At the time when it happens you do mean it.  You think there's no other way of saving yourself and you're quite ready to save yourself that way.  You &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; it to happen to the other person.  You don't give a damn what they suffer.  All you care about is yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All you care about is yourself," he echoed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And after that you don't feel the same toward the person any longer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," he said, "you don't feel the same."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dougjumper.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/1984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 305px;" src="http://www.dougjumper.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/1984.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-401339410376025222?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/401339410376025222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=401339410376025222' title='89 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/401339410376025222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/401339410376025222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2009/06/under-spreading-chestnut-tree-i-sold.html' title='&quot;Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me...&quot;'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>89</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-2226201306722016243</id><published>2008-07-18T19:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T19:57:56.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SIEtX5TICFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/lwxHjW2yLr8/s1600-h/despair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224506931267766354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SIEtX5TICFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/lwxHjW2yLr8/s400/despair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The food is cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your eyes are cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The window's cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bed's cold&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something that's not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cold, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something thats not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cold, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something thats not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cold, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The chair's hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your voice is hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The money's hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The living's hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something that's not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hard, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something that's not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hard, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me something thats not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hard, come on, come on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ill give you my heartbeat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a bit of tear and flesh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not very much but while it's there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can have it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can have it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-"Give Me Something," Yoko Ono&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-2226201306722016243?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/2226201306722016243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=2226201306722016243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2226201306722016243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2226201306722016243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2008/07/food-is-cold-your-eyes-are-cold-windows.html' title=''/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SIEtX5TICFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/lwxHjW2yLr8/s72-c/despair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4504616579542378570</id><published>2008-05-31T02:58:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T03:09:18.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meat Marketing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SED5iZAXotI/AAAAAAAAAOk/G45nVenJshg/s1600-h/meat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206435538463597266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SED5iZAXotI/AAAAAAAAAOk/G45nVenJshg/s200/meat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Beef. It's what's for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pork. The other white meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken. The other other white meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamb. Don't forget about me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veal. You heartless monster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turkey. You are getting sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish. We swim around in our own filth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tripe. At least I'm not haggis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haggis. The only thing worse than tripe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(thanks to John for these swell slogans)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4504616579542378570?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4504616579542378570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4504616579542378570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4504616579542378570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4504616579542378570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2008/05/meat-slogans.html' title='Meat Marketing'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SED5iZAXotI/AAAAAAAAAOk/G45nVenJshg/s72-c/meat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-1412906057748445333</id><published>2007-11-12T20:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T20:14:29.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Found In The Stacks Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rzj5ZcJS72I/AAAAAAAAAN0/Wr0oZfA-dck/s1600-h/package.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132125990835908450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rzj5ZcJS72I/AAAAAAAAAN0/Wr0oZfA-dck/s400/package.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excerpt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Man, I just don't dig this. I never made an instructional package before, I don't even know what one looks like, I had better go back to page &lt;u&gt;6&lt;/u&gt; and do the assignments and learn about packaged instruction."  (p.5, "Path Selection")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-1412906057748445333?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/1412906057748445333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=1412906057748445333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1412906057748445333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1412906057748445333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/11/found-in-stacks-today.html' title='Found In The Stacks Today'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rzj5ZcJS72I/AAAAAAAAAN0/Wr0oZfA-dck/s72-c/package.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-5304838980272127268</id><published>2007-11-03T23:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T14:23:36.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Got You Sussed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ry1ErEaMuaI/AAAAAAAAANM/A0V5lTUV6SE/s1600-h/who_1969.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ry1ErEaMuaI/AAAAAAAAANM/A0V5lTUV6SE/s400/who_1969.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128831057353554338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the difference between my love for The Beatles and my love for The Who is the fact that I've been alive to experience more of The Who's musical journey. To me, The Who are less mythical, I suppose.  But seeing "Amazing Journey", the new documentary (or "Roc-Doc", as VH-1 insists) tonight made me realize how important the band and their music have been to me ever since I was old enough to like rock and roll.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film is propelled by interviews, performance footage and photos, with (thankfully) no "Behind The Music"-style omniscient narrator or swelling, ominous background music.  The early biographical sketches of the band members, especially Pete's, really caught my attention; I was following Pete's autobiographical blog posts earlier this year.  I also enjoyed the commentary by everyone from Eddie Vedder to Keith Moon's mum, and hearing so many fun facts about the band (was Pete sincerely worried that Jimi Hendrix was stealing his moves?).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, the most interesting part of the film had to be Pete's commentary on his songwriting career.  He mentions that he found songwriting to be "boring" up until the time of Tommy, and after its success, he worried about playing God from that point on, especially during Quadrophenia. He confessed to feeling like a puppeteer pulling the strings his bandmate marionettes in order to put on his little shows.  But gradually, he gave himself more and more permission to make his songwriting personal, and he credits Roger with always being the perfect vocalist to interpret his songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interviews and comments are candid and, for the most part, sincere. The Cincinnati concert tragedy is mentioned toward the end of the film, with respectful comments from Kenny Jones and others, but neither Pete nor Roger speaks about the event.  Pete does speak frankly about his arrest on suspicion of possessing child porn.  And as much as I love the guy, I guess he just wouldn't be Pete without saying something shockingly egotistical and dumb; in this movie, the top award has to go to his observation that "Keith was a genius, John was a genius, I was certainly on the edge of it . . . Roger was a singer."   Okay, Pete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film covers just about all the major events in the life of the band. Keith dies.  Sad.  Band breaks up.  Sad.  John dies.  Sad.  Roger and Pete live on, and Pete claims that only now have the two of them been able to feel truly close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Amazin Journey" is a perfect mix of history, trivia and music.  Who knows, maybe they'll make it into an album, a stage show,  a film of the stage show....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-5304838980272127268?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/5304838980272127268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=5304838980272127268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5304838980272127268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5304838980272127268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/11/got-you-sussed.html' title='Got You Sussed'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ry1ErEaMuaI/AAAAAAAAANM/A0V5lTUV6SE/s72-c/who_1969.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-1393701743901119633</id><published>2007-10-27T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T14:16:18.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"...but the weather turned around."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RyP5V0aMuYI/AAAAAAAAAM8/MxTycCRVAyA/s1600-h/dylanthomas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RyP5V0aMuYI/AAAAAAAAAM8/MxTycCRVAyA/s400/dylanthomas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126214954118855042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written seventy years ago today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.undermilkwood.net/poetry_poembirthday.html"&gt;Poem On His Birthday&lt;/a&gt; &lt;font size=2&gt;(read and hear it here)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a Caedmon LP somewhere of Dylan Thomas reading this and other poems... he often said that poetry should be spoken, not merely read.  He certainly had the perfect poet's voice; he very nearly sings his poems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I always remember his birthday, but I usually think of this poem rather than the one actually called "Poem on His Birthday":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size=2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Poem in October &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     by Dylan Thomas &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      It was my thirtieth year to heaven &lt;br /&gt;Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood &lt;br /&gt;      And the mussel pooled and the heron &lt;br /&gt;                  Priested shore &lt;br /&gt;            The morning beckon &lt;br /&gt;With water praying and call of seagull and rook &lt;br /&gt;And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall &lt;br /&gt;            Myself to set foot &lt;br /&gt;                  That second &lt;br /&gt;      In the still sleeping town and set forth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      My birthday began with the water- &lt;br /&gt;Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name &lt;br /&gt;      Above the farms and the white horses &lt;br /&gt;                  And I rose &lt;br /&gt;            In rainy autumn &lt;br /&gt;And walked abroad in a shower of all my days. &lt;br /&gt;High tide and the heron dived when I took the road &lt;br /&gt;            Over the border &lt;br /&gt;                  And the gates &lt;br /&gt;      Of the town closed as the town awoke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      A springful of larks in a rolling &lt;br /&gt;Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling &lt;br /&gt;      Blackbirds and the sun of October &lt;br /&gt;                  Summery &lt;br /&gt;            On the hill’s shoulder, &lt;br /&gt;Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly &lt;br /&gt;Come in the morning where I wandered and listened &lt;br /&gt;            To the rain wringing &lt;br /&gt;                  Wind blow cold &lt;br /&gt;      In the wood faraway under me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Pale rain over the dwindling harbour &lt;br /&gt;And over the sea wet church the size of a snail &lt;br /&gt;      With its horns through mist and the castle &lt;br /&gt;                  Brown as owls &lt;br /&gt;            But all the gardens &lt;br /&gt;Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales &lt;br /&gt;Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud. &lt;br /&gt;            There could I marvel &lt;br /&gt;                  My birthday &lt;br /&gt;      Away but the weather turned around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      It turned away from the blithe country &lt;br /&gt;And down the other air and the blue altered sky &lt;br /&gt;      Streamed again a wonder of summer &lt;br /&gt;                  With apples &lt;br /&gt;            Pears and red currants &lt;br /&gt;And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s &lt;br /&gt;Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother &lt;br /&gt;            Through the parables &lt;br /&gt;                  Of sun light &lt;br /&gt;      And the legends of the green chapels &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      And the twice told fields of infancy &lt;br /&gt;That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine. &lt;br /&gt;      These were the woods the river and sea &lt;br /&gt;                  Where a boy &lt;br /&gt;            In the listening &lt;br /&gt;Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy &lt;br /&gt;To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide. &lt;br /&gt;            And the mystery &lt;br /&gt;                  Sang alive &lt;br /&gt;      Still in the water and singingbirds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      And there could I marvel my birthday &lt;br /&gt;Away but the weather turned around. And the true &lt;br /&gt;      Joy of the long dead child sang burning &lt;br /&gt;                  In the sun. &lt;br /&gt;            It was my thirtieth &lt;br /&gt;Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon &lt;br /&gt;Though the town below lay leaved with October blood. &lt;br /&gt;            O may my heart’s truth &lt;br /&gt;                  Still be sung &lt;br /&gt;      On this high hill in a year’s turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;em&gt;Poetry &lt;/em&gt;(February 1945). &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-1393701743901119633?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/1393701743901119633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=1393701743901119633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1393701743901119633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1393701743901119633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/10/poem-on-his-birthday.html' title='&quot;...but the weather turned around.&quot;'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RyP5V0aMuYI/AAAAAAAAAM8/MxTycCRVAyA/s72-c/dylanthomas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-5175528825563604475</id><published>2007-08-07T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T23:43:46.052-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Balm Cartoon!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://angryflower.com/itchys.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was so tickled to see this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RrklMYaGbqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/nx2IrqmYKF4/s1600-h/itchys.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096145347987009186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RrklMYaGbqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/nx2IrqmYKF4/s400/itchys.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This other balm mention was cool, too:  &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/latenight/lateshow/top_ten/index/php/20070719.phtml"&gt;Late Show Top Ten List from July 19th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-5175528825563604475?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/5175528825563604475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=5175528825563604475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5175528825563604475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5175528825563604475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/08/balm-cartoon.html' title='Balm Cartoon!'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RrklMYaGbqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/nx2IrqmYKF4/s72-c/itchys.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-6590594164218589708</id><published>2007-07-02T14:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T10:44:16.202-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Nobody's Erasing!" - My Favorite Online Comics</title><content type='html'>I rarely get the chance to shop for comics anymore, but I seem to spend more and more time reading them on the web. These are some of the online comics I try to keep up with daily. It's a shame these strip images have to be so small, but they're all links that will take you to the big version. You can also follow the title links to the artists' websites. Most of these strips are free to view, but the paid-subscription one (American Elf) is definitely worth the few bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.qwantz.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Dinosaur Comics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://qwantz.com/archive/001025.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083463473081330338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RowXGG2vqqI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PEmYjNVTkmc/s400/Trex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly the funniest comic on the web. Like David Lynch's "Angriest Dog In The World" strip, the panels never change; but T-Rex's inane comments to his dino pals are different in each strip. Ryan North rules people's lives with this comic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quote:&lt;/b&gt; "Lesbians! I respect their choices and don't fetishize their sexuality at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drewweing.com/journalcomic/?date=20020305"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Journal Comic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drewweing.com/journalcomic/?date=20021101"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083524453026999058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RoxOjm2vqxI/AAAAAAAAALk/NKRkTv6Fpag/s400/TJCcatcat.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even though Drew Weing kept this journal strip going for only a year or so, it remains one of my all-time favorites. The unfortunate paradox of autobio comics is that only cartoonists produce them; how great would it be to read the comic journal of a firefighter or a copy editor or... I dunno, a librarian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Starting point:&lt;/b&gt; Might as well start from the beginning -- sixteen months' worth of three-panel strips goes by quickly when they're this good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pbfcomics.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Perry Bible Fellowship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://pbfcomics.com/?cid=PBF212-Contamination_Zone.jpg#197"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083472733030820562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RowfhG2vqtI/AAAAAAAAALE/Udzi5sLQ8a0/s400/PBF212-Contamination_Zone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Unsettling but sometimes hilarious, these beautifully-painted strips range from dark humor to absurdism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Starting Point:&lt;/strong&gt; The "Random" feature is most appropriate for this one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.achewood.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Achewood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://achewood.com/index.php?date=12042006"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083524715020004130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RoxOy22vqyI/AAAAAAAAALs/u5b4vz9dkYc/s400/achewoodmeg.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well-plotted and sweetly surreal, this Web comic follows a bunch of bizarre, anthropomorphic stuffed animals from northern California. The artist, Chris Onstad, is insanely prolific, posting new strips several times a week and even maintaining blogs for each of the main characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Starting point&lt;/strong&gt;: You can browse the archives to see how the strip has evolved, or use the pull-down menu to jump to a story arc. "Volvo of Despair," in which two cats buy Trent Reznor's high school car, is a great start. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fborfw.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For Better or for Worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fborfw.com/strip_fix/archives/002495.php"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083477710897916642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RowkC22vquI/AAAAAAAAALM/rVjBL1rjOgA/s400/FBOFW.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kind of a guilty pleasure, but I can barely stand to miss a single day of this daily newspaper strip. Yes, sometimes it's smarmy (especially the Sunday strips), but it really does seem as though I grew up with these characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Starting Point:&lt;/strong&gt; The online archives only go back as far as 2003, but several of the older compilation books are still available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.americanelf.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;American Elf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083520939743750898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RoxLXG2vqvI/AAAAAAAAALU/IWGDYKKc3Gc/s400/Erasing.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the best-known web comics of all (it's also published in Burlington's &lt;em&gt;Seven Days&lt;/em&gt; newspaper), American Elf is rock star James Kochalka's daily chronicle of his own life. He's been keeping this sketch diary for years and years now. This is a subscription site, but you can check the current strip every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote:&lt;/strong&gt; "While Amy read a story to Eli, I looked at her crotch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spamusement.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Spamusement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083467707919084226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rowa8m2vqsI/AAAAAAAAAK8/ctGcT2vovKM/s400/spamusement.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is extremely silly and I wish I had thought of it: spam subject lines accompanied by crude cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quote (from above panel):&lt;/b&gt; "It's time to Refill armadillo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angryflower.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bob The Angry Flower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://angryflower.com/bobsqu.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083720745917328178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ro0BFW2vqzI/AAAAAAAAAL0/kyVmV7GXFYw/s400/aposter3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An irritable flower takes on aliens and wheelchair basketball. Stephen Notley is the creator of this strip. He's probably the only adult male (apart from Peter Gabriel) to dress up as a flower in public on a regular basis. His movie reviews, which he posts on his site, are entertaining, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Starting Point:&lt;/strong&gt; Anywhere, as long as you don't miss &lt;a href="http://www.angryflower.com/timelo.gif"&gt;"Bob The Angry Flower Struggles With The Time Looker-Forward Tube."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-6590594164218589708?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/6590594164218589708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=6590594164218589708' title='69 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6590594164218589708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6590594164218589708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-top-ten-online-comics.html' title='&quot;Nobody&apos;s Erasing!&quot; -&lt;br&gt; My Favorite Online Comics'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RowXGG2vqqI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PEmYjNVTkmc/s72-c/Trex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>69</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-5428036795089527727</id><published>2007-06-09T13:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T12:32:53.564-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Meme Mine</title><content type='html'>You've seen them by now, right? Web pages and blogs featuring cutely-captioned photos of cats and other creatures, exemplified by the now famous &lt;a href="http://www.icanhascheezburger.com"&gt;I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER?&lt;/a&gt; site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.icanhascheezburger.com"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074472482479245026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rmwl1kyrhuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/QgdPFeLeyDM/s400/halp_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2007/05/18/in-ur-yardz/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolcat"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt; and even the &lt;a href="http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/business/4862013.html"&gt;mainstream news&lt;/a&gt; are getting hip to the emerging LOLmeme. So, after delighting in &lt;a href="http://lolpresident.com/"&gt;lolpresident&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://granades.com/2007/05/02/loltrek/"&gt;loltrek&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.vexappeal.com/lolgod/"&gt;lolgod&lt;/a&gt; and even &lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/lolbrarians/"&gt;lolbrarians&lt;/a&gt;, I couldn't resist starting up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://lolbeatlz.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;lolbeatlz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lolbeatlz.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074131642464568930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rmrv2EyrhmI/AAAAAAAAAIU/5klI1Xbm2dg/s320/halp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-5428036795089527727?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/5428036795089527727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=5428036795089527727' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5428036795089527727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5428036795089527727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-meme-mine.html' title='I Meme Mine'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rmwl1kyrhuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/QgdPFeLeyDM/s72-c/halp_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4356337053453214167</id><published>2007-05-19T15:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T15:22:16.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Triptych</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I've been slowly attempting to decorate the side door of the garage.  I've painted two panels in the past three years. Here's the one I finished today:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rk9MzvjmQFI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2zUTAni7PKs/s1600-h/Third+Panel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066352557637910610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rk9MzvjmQFI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2zUTAni7PKs/s400/Third+Panel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the whole door.  Two more to go, but I'll have to sit on the ground to reach them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rk9ON_jmQGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/alAHHwVfg3g/s1600-h/Three+Panels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rk9ON_jmQGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/alAHHwVfg3g/s400/Three+Panels.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066354108121104482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4356337053453214167?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4356337053453214167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4356337053453214167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4356337053453214167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4356337053453214167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/triptych.html' title='Triptych'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rk9MzvjmQFI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2zUTAni7PKs/s72-c/Third+Panel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-5245379310742568784</id><published>2007-05-18T17:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T17:45:27.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Things I Did To Avoid Answering Reference Questions On My Last Day Of Work Before Taking A Week Off</title><content type='html'>1. Made pretend phone calls&lt;br /&gt;2. Sneaked away for 45 minute nap in my car&lt;br /&gt;3. Used two computers at once to look extraordinarily busy&lt;br /&gt;4. Took eight extended trips to the restroom&lt;br /&gt;5. Avoided eye contact&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-5245379310742568784?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/5245379310742568784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=5245379310742568784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5245379310742568784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5245379310742568784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/five-things-i-did-to-avoid-answering.html' title='Five Things I Did To Avoid Answering Reference Questions On My Last Day Of Work Before Taking A Week Off'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3479902599162001859</id><published>2007-05-12T21:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T12:20:31.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Faux Fungus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RkZxQF584NI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/w52w_aBs8kE/s1600-h/mushroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063859352301789394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RkZxQF584NI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/w52w_aBs8kE/s400/mushroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I planted the ceramic mushroom from the Essex Junction craft show. I like how it offsets the actual fungus on the trunk of the crabapple tree.  The mushroom was made by &lt;a href="http://www.ripplepottery.com"&gt;Ripple Pottery&lt;/a&gt; of Rumney, NH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3479902599162001859?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3479902599162001859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3479902599162001859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3479902599162001859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3479902599162001859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/faux-fungus.html' title='Faux Fungus'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RkZxQF584NI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/w52w_aBs8kE/s72-c/mushroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-6295572008038887958</id><published>2007-05-11T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T21:44:06.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Else</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.theymightbegiants.com/assets/left/tmbg_else_cov.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.theymightbegiants.com/assets/left/tmbg_else_cov.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's actually kind of spooky. I was reading &lt;a href="http://tmbw.net/wiki/The_Else"&gt;This Might Be A Wiki&lt;/a&gt; this afternoon and I realized that certain lyrics in every song on TMBG's upcoming album &lt;i&gt;The Else&lt;/i&gt; could have been written about my life -- specifically, about this year of my life. (Okay, except maybe "The Mesopotamians".)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm not suffering from "Famous Polka" syndrome:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"A famous person wears the same size waterskis as me.&lt;br /&gt;She's got three cars, as many years I've lived in this city. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Her hair is blonde and mine is brown. They both start with a B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;But when the phone inside her ribcage rings, it's not for me.&lt;br /&gt;But when the phone inside her ribcage rings, it's not for me. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-6295572008038887958?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/6295572008038887958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=6295572008038887958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6295572008038887958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6295572008038887958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/else.html' title='The Else'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3854640715713512237</id><published>2007-05-09T10:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T16:03:22.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Wild Life</title><content type='html'>I sure wish I could find the charger to my camera so I could capture some of the suburban wildlife I've been seeing this week. This morning alone in the back yard, to complement the daffodils and violets and pretty plantlife springing up all over, I saw the following fauna:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A pair of purple finches perched on the power cord that runs from the house to the garage&lt;br /&gt;- A brilliant, loud male cardinal, which landed on the same wire and scared off the finches&lt;br /&gt;- Two gray catbirds in the flowering crabapple&lt;br /&gt;- Several sparrows&lt;br /&gt;- Several gray squirrels&lt;br /&gt;- A chittery chipmunk&lt;br /&gt;- Chickadees in great quantity&lt;br /&gt;and the most special spotting:&lt;br /&gt;- a large bright-eyed brown bunny, which slowly hopped across the driveway, under the Adirondack chair and across to the neighbors' back yard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to look up rabbits in my &lt;em&gt;Celtic Animal Oracle&lt;/em&gt;. But no matter what sort of omen the Druids may have thought it, seeing a soft, sweet wild thing this morning just felt a little bit magical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pestproducts.com/images/brush-rabbit.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.pestproducts.com/images/brush-rabbit.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3854640715713512237?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3854640715713512237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3854640715713512237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3854640715713512237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3854640715713512237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/wild-wild-life.html' title='Wild Wild Life'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3246954555674917360</id><published>2007-05-07T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T16:13:57.297-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Checking Out John Flansburgh</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photo.net/learn/concerts/mirarchi/jf_realclose_med.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Cinco de Mayo weekend marked another Vermont visit for me, this time to beautiful Burlington on a springy, sunny weekend. The Best Friend had booked a hotel for us and whisked me away a day early; we checked in late Friday afternoon. As we walked from our room to a nearby restaurant (and a "surprise" for me, I was informed) on Friday evening, we passed by the Higher Ground Ballroom. "THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS - MAY 4", annnounced the marquee. It took me a while (nearly halfway through our meal, really) to assimilate the info, but when I did, I was ecstatic -- the BF had gotten tickets just the day before, and... we were going to our third TMBG concert together, that very night! Wahoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was to start at 8:00, so after dinner we went back to the room for a while to play Word Sweep and check out the Red Sox pre-game stuff on TV. Later, as we prepared to head over to the concert, I glanced out our fourth floor window to the walkway below. A dark haired dude with glasses was passing below. He was sipping a coffee and munching a muffin or donut as he walked. "Cute guy," I thought. I had just been thinking about Burlington and how a lot of interesting people around my age (but with perhaps a younger mindset) tended to live there, and here was a perfect example bobbing along the sidewalk 40 feet away. Then a flash of recognition: his slightly gray, slightly spiky hair, his build, his features... "Flans! It's Flans!" I shouted to the BF in the bathroom. John Flansburgh was staying at our hotel. "It was Flans! I just saw him!" I repeated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cool. What channel?" came the voice from the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no... he's HERE. I just saw him out the window! I think he was walking into the lobby!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grabbed our room keys and took the stairs down to the lobby, but I guess we were a bit too slow: there was no sign of Flans. We paced around outside and even camped out on a bench for a while, but as 8:00 approached and Mr. Flansburgh continued not to appear, we decided to stop our spontaneous stalking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told the BF as we walked to Higher Ground: "I can't believe I was checking John Flansburgh out".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show? Yes, of COURSE it rocked. There are some very good accounts of it &lt;a href="http://tmbw.net/wiki/Shows/2007-05-04"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, it just may have been my favorite concert ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3246954555674917360?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3246954555674917360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3246954555674917360' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3246954555674917360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3246954555674917360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/05/checking-out-john-flansburgh.html' title='Checking Out John Flansburgh'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3076846403845218698</id><published>2007-04-29T12:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T14:05:00.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crow And The Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;by Ted Hughes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; (from &lt;em&gt;Crow: From The Life And Songs Of The Crow&lt;/em&gt;, London : Faber and Faber, 1970)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried ignoring the sea&lt;br /&gt;But it was bigger than death, just as it was bigger than life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried talking to the sea&lt;br /&gt;But his brain shuttered and his eyes winced from it as from open flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried sympathy for the sea&lt;br /&gt;But it shouldered him off -- as a dead thing shoulders you off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried hating the sea&lt;br /&gt;But instantly felt like a scrutty dry rabbit-dropping on the windy cliff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried just being in the same world as the sea&lt;br /&gt;But his lungs were not deep enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And his cheery blood banged off it&lt;br /&gt;Like a water-drop off a hot stove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned his back and marched away from the sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a crucified man cannot move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3076846403845218698?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3076846403845218698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3076846403845218698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3076846403845218698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3076846403845218698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/crow-and-sea.html' title='Crow And The Sea'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-979084775984843883</id><published>2007-04-24T23:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T09:57:54.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Trip (For People Who Like To Click Links)</title><content type='html'>I had a very nice mini-vacation last week. On Thursday afternoon I took a beautiful drive &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vermont"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to meet up with &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ri7Q71584JI/AAAAAAAAAGs/TNZdYalURFA/s1600-h/DSC00078.JPG"&gt;my best friend&lt;/a&gt;. The day was clear and I arrived there in the late evening, just as it was getting dark. We ate some of &lt;a href="http://www.pepperidgefarm.com/indulgent_treats_desserts.asp"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, watched &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/30_Rock/"&gt;TV&lt;/a&gt;, then watched another show on &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor14/"&gt;DVR&lt;/a&gt; and some of a &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Black-Books-Complete-Dylan-Moran/dp/B00018HTIC"&gt;DVD&lt;/a&gt; before going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday morning, we ate &lt;a href="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/B000329TDY.01-A3CDPEGSIQM61V._AA280_SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; (I had some of &lt;a href="http://www.blackberryrose.com/images/pictures/products/stonewall_kitchen/Sour%20Cherry%20Jam.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; on mine), watched more of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Black-Books-Complete-Dylan-Moran/dp/B00018HTIC"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, and I looked at some of his old LP's like &lt;a href="http://home.earthlink.net/~ktd_333/GeorgeHarrison.jpg"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; while he played my new &lt;a href="http://www.worldmusicsupply.com/guitars/acoustic-guitars/Dean/PE-TPP.asp"&gt;guitar&lt;/a&gt;. Then we drove into town and hit the post office, the bank, and &lt;a href="http://hanover.blogspot.com/Main%20Street2.JPG"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; place. We shopped &lt;a href="http://www.bordersstores.com/index.jsp?tt%3Dam"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, ate lunch &lt;a href="http://www.friendlys.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and then did some more shopping &lt;a href="http://www.bjs.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; (where I got some of &lt;a href="http://www.littledebbie.com/products/NuttyBars.asp"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; to bring home to The Boy). Then I spotted this &lt;a href="http://www.lindtusa.com/index.cfm"&gt;store&lt;/a&gt; where we were lucky enough to find some of my favorite &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mozartkugel"&gt;chocolates&lt;/a&gt;. We shopped &lt;a href="http://www.shaws.com/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for groceries, then went back to the house for a &lt;a href="http://www.hasbro.com/pl/page.viewproduct/product_id.9497/dn/scrabble/home.cfm"&gt;game&lt;/a&gt;, which we played while listening to the &lt;a href="http://www.fountainsofwayne.com/"&gt;CD&lt;/a&gt; we bought. The mail arrived, along with a &lt;a href="http://www.panikstoybox.com/pd_owly.cfm"&gt;gift&lt;/a&gt; for me (so sweet!). We cooked a delicious chicken stir-fry dinner and watched the &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0478049/"&gt;DVD&lt;/a&gt; we had purchased earlier that day. Before and after the movie, we saw an exciting &lt;a href="http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/news/wrap.jsp?ymd=20070420&amp;content_id=1920984&amp;amp;vkey=wrapup2005&amp;fext=.jsp&amp;amp;team=home"&gt;baseball game&lt;/a&gt; on TV. Then to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was the day of the big &lt;a href="http://www.five-collegesbooksale.org/"&gt;book sale&lt;/a&gt;, so after breakfast and a stop at a &lt;a href="http://www.cvs.com"&gt;drug store&lt;/a&gt; (because I had the sniffles), we made our way there. It was crowded, but fun to pick through the rooms and rooms of books; we each found a few interesting things, including &lt;a href="http://worldcat.org/oclc/48579298"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, all for very cheap. Then we stopped for a &lt;a href="http://steveandamysly.tannerworld.com/databank/2006/image_drpepper1.jpg"&gt;soda&lt;/a&gt; and a &lt;a href="http://www.coinoptoday.com/newsflash/Companies/Coca-cola/lg_mm_juicestogo_10oz-f5-100_w.jpg"&gt;juice&lt;/a&gt; while I filled up my gas tank. We went for a private and pleasant walk near &lt;a href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/thumb/9/91/300px-QuecheeGorge.jpg"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, following a trail through a closed-down mini-golf course to a pretty meadow beside a red barn. It was all so very... &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vermont"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Then it was time for lunch &lt;a href="http://www.farmersdiner.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. And of course, we browsed &lt;a href="http://www.quecheegorge.com/antiques.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, where I got this interesting set of... &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Ri6ggvDFkkI/AAAAAAAAAGc/9pGPpmhcY6U/s1600-h/DSC00072.JPG"&gt;things&lt;/a&gt; (does anyone know what they might be?) and some &lt;a href="http://www.sugarmillfarm.com/images/category_pics/maple_candy.jpg"&gt;candy&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to the house for some song-swapping, &lt;a href="http://mlb.mlb.com/news/wrap.jsp?ymd=20070421&amp;content_id=1922301&amp;amp;vkey=wrapup2005&amp;fext=.jsp&amp;amp;c_id=mlb"&gt;Sox&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.thehouseofcards.com/retail/skipbo.html"&gt;Skip-Bo&lt;/a&gt;. Then dinner (he had leftovers from Friday night, while I had &lt;a href="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B000AQF90U.01-A3CDPEGSIQM61V._SCMZZZZZZZ_V65957400_.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;), after which we watched the remaining episodes of &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Black-Books-Complete-Dylan-Moran/dp/B00018HTIC"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Afterwards he gave a private &lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/wbcreprint/piano.jpg"&gt;piano&lt;/a&gt; concert just for me and the kitty. Later, we started another &lt;a href="http://www.hasbro.com/pl/page.viewproduct/product_id.9497/dn/scrabble/home.cfm"&gt;game&lt;/a&gt; but soon opted for the &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/#mea=94709"&gt;show&lt;/a&gt; and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was my departure day, but first we decided to head back &lt;a href="http://www.friendlys.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for breakfast, and &lt;a href="http://www.shaws.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; again for a few things. Then back to the house, where I finished packing my stuff and we played one final &lt;a href="http://www.thehouseofcards.com/retail/skipbo.html"&gt;game&lt;/a&gt; while listening to his jukebox music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was sunny, breezy and beautiful all weekend long; although I was sad to be leaving, I knew my drive home would be pleasant. So, after we said "til next time!", I got on the road, listening to some re-discovered mix tapes, including one with great alternate versions of all my favorite Beatles songs. I've been back to work a few days now, but my head is still on vacation, and my ears are still hearing the &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/abfabfourforjan.txt"&gt;Ab Fab Four For Jan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-979084775984843883?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/979084775984843883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=979084775984843883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/979084775984843883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/979084775984843883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-trip-for-people-who-like-to-click_24.html' title='My Trip (For People Who Like To Click Links)'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4631052490971484486</id><published>2007-04-15T19:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T00:10:20.844-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Globe</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"April is the cruellest month..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks back, I thought it was safe once more to set outside the beautiful glass globe my best friend gave me. It's one of my favorite things; a hand-blown sphere dotted with specks that absorb light during the daytime and glow like a galaxy at night. However, today it was looking more like a snow globe: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLdOxmlUqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zso96M1x-5Q/s1600-h/DSC00054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLdOxmlUqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zso96M1x-5Q/s320/DSC00054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053844977766191778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where it lives on my shelf during the cold months, and where it's been put back for another week or so: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLi4xmlUrI/AAAAAAAAAGU/MLLYMb4e1lc/s1600-h/DSC00060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLi4xmlUrI/AAAAAAAAAGU/MLLYMb4e1lc/s320/DSC00060.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053851196878836402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm pretty sick of snow, and wondering if I'll ever see the back garden looking like this again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLbsRmlUpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vKiMlVq32TE/s1600-h/Globe+and+Pip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLbsRmlUpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vKiMlVq32TE/s320/Globe+and+Pip.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053843285549077138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4631052490971484486?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4631052490971484486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4631052490971484486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4631052490971484486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4631052490971484486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/snow-globe.html' title='Snow Globe'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiLdOxmlUqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/zso96M1x-5Q/s72-c/DSC00054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-213759890142932546</id><published>2007-04-12T10:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T11:05:16.444-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Father Kurt</title><content type='html'>I was probably too young to read &lt;em&gt;Breakfast Of Champions &lt;/em&gt;when I first noticed it on my stepfather's bookshelf.  Actually, I didn't read it when I first noticed it -- with its Wheaties-slogan title and its garish orange, yellow and blue jacket, I probably thought it was a book about sports.  But adolescent boredom eventually led me to pull it down and look through it.  I remember being so surprised that there were pictures: the author's own artless line drawings which illustrated the darkly comic text in a way that reminded me of &lt;em&gt;The Little Prince&lt;/em&gt;, which we had just read in English class.   I finished &lt;em&gt;Breakfast of Champions &lt;/em&gt;in an afternoon, and I remember feeling changed... more grown-up in some way, because I had read and understood and genuinely &lt;em&gt;liked&lt;/em&gt; this ironic adult novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later there were trips to Book Thrift, the store where used paperbacks were sold by thickness; the owner/cashier would stack up your purchases, measure the stack height with a ruler, and charge a dollar per inch.  I got &lt;em&gt;Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse-Five, Wampeters, Foma &amp; Granfaloons,&lt;/em&gt; and my favorite (to this day) &lt;em&gt;Slapstick&lt;/em&gt;.  All through high school, college and life beyond, I had the pleasure of anticipating and purchasing Kurt Vonnegut's new books as they were released: &lt;em&gt;Jailbird, Palm Sunday, Galapagos, Bluebeard, Deadeye Dick, Hocus Pocus&lt;/em&gt;.  To me, reading Vonnegut was like listening to Bob Dylan or even The Beatles: a shared generational experience (although again, I was born a bit too late to be an actual member of the relevant generation). But it felt personal at the same time, because I had discovered this author for myself and I could always identify with at least some of the themes in each book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved Kurt Vonnegut for his prose and his philosophy, his ideas and his ideals.  His catchphrases became part of my consciousness and his persona, expressed through the lectures, interviews and essays of his later life, became very dear to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was born on the 11th and he died on the 11th.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiDtVhmlUlI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VUuzSqggqo8/s1600-h/kurt.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiDtVhmlUlI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VUuzSqggqo8/s200/kurt.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053299735962931794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-213759890142932546?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/213759890142932546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=213759890142932546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/213759890142932546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/213759890142932546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/father-kurt.html' title='Father Kurt'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RiDtVhmlUlI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VUuzSqggqo8/s72-c/kurt.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3351118369734260159</id><published>2007-04-10T11:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T16:12:46.116-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Of The 70 Games I Found In The Attic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“You know, the Parker Brothers took the time to think this all out; I think we should respect the game.”&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;– The Sopranos'&lt;/em&gt; Bobby "Bacala" Baccalieri on the Monopoly free parking rule&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This week is Spring Break for The Boy and me. Since the weather is still snowy, we needed some indoor entertainment, so I went up into the attic in search of games we might play together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051560401820227010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhq_a8_slcI/AAAAAAAAADc/0o0kkdz-q8s/s200/mexicant.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mexican Train and Chicken House Domino Game&lt;/strong&gt; - The name alone intrigues, doesn't it? This is a game I got for Christmas a few years back. It's similar to regular dominoes, except each player works outward from a hub to make his own "train". The hub has a switch which can be set to "TRAIN" or "CHICKEN". Pressing the center of the hub makes either a "toot-toot" or "cluck-cluck" noise. I'm still not sure why. There is no reference in the instruction sheet to the sound options. When I played this with friends, we pressed the hub at random intervals just to distract each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051562429044790738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrBQ8_sldI/AAAAAAAAADk/U9FQipKLiOg/s200/bionicle1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Quest For Makuta Bionicle Adventure Game&lt;/strong&gt; - Because this was one of those games that The Boy would often ask for at the height of his obsession with a particular toy or TV show, I didn't expect it to be as much fun as it is. &lt;em&gt;Quest for Makuta &lt;/em&gt;is a complex and ever-changing game with interlocking board pieces, strategic elements, puzzle elements and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/bionicle.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;beautiful graphics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051565594435687906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrEJM_sleI/AAAAAAAAADs/Qi_D_I2W-W0/s200/pokemon1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pokemon Master Trainer&lt;/strong&gt; - Another of The Boy's toy tie-in games that turned out to be really enjoyable. The object is to make your way across the board to the Indigo Plateau, catching Pokemon along the way (with the help of dice throws). The Unknown Pokemon Dungeon contains four rare creatures which, if captured, almost assure you of winning -- unless the other player is also able to reach the Dungeon before the game ends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/pokemon2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Colorful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051571182188140034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrJOc_slgI/AAAAAAAAAD8/xE5_IvEypjo/s200/snailspc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Snail's Pace Race -&lt;/strong&gt; The Boy got this one when he was very young. Colorful wooden snails race along the board track, advancing when their color is rolled on the two dice. Since it's the snails and not the players who are racing, no one loses. This was perfect for my kid (who, at age 6 or so was known to weep and wail "my career is over!" when games didn't quite go his way). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051571847908070930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrJ1M_slhI/AAAAAAAAAEE/lepfN_jTb6U/s200/doongame.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Doonesbury Game&lt;/strong&gt; - I got this back in the early 90's and I don't think I've ever played it. A look at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/dooncard.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;instruction card&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; might explain why, although I suspect that this is the kind of game that requires a fun gathering of creative people in order to make it enjoyable. And I can't explain why, but creative people never seemed to gather at my house in the early 90's. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrhHs_slkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KMeCJK_FcfY/s1600-h/factsin5.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051597454503089730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhrhHs_slkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KMeCJK_FcfY/s200/factsin5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Facts In Five - &lt;/strong&gt;I asked my mom to buy this at a garage sale in the mid-1970's. It was a "Bookshelf Games" edition, which has since gone missing and been replaced with a less-attractively packaged 1964 version I found on ebay. &lt;em&gt;Facts In Five&lt;/em&gt; is sort of a more intellectual precursor to &lt;em&gt;Scattergories&lt;/em&gt;; players have to fill in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/factgrid.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;grid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; with categories across the top and initial letters along the left-hand side. But what categories! 'Artificial Satellites'. 'Scientific/Engineering Organizations'. 'African Military Figures'. I realize now that I grew up wondering if I'd ever be smart enough to play this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuR6xmlUeI/AAAAAAAAAEs/v-fF5bDE5OU/s1600-h/happiness.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051791845959750114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuR6xmlUeI/AAAAAAAAAEs/v-fF5bDE5OU/s200/happiness.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Happiness -&lt;/strong&gt; Touchy feely I'm OK you're OK free to be you and me pop psychology fun! This game was all about Hang-Ups, Self-Improvement and (curiously) Fate. Six little mini-games on the big 3-D board made it interesting to play. Fun playing pieces, spinners, reward keys and rainbow racks made it a pleasure to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/happiness2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;look&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; at, too. My stepsister and I would often play this together, the subtext being "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm WAY more self-actualized than you, so there!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuYqBmlUfI/AAAAAAAAAE0/tjclO97kov4/s1600-h/bride1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051799254778335730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuYqBmlUfI/AAAAAAAAAE0/tjclO97kov4/s200/bride1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bride Game -&lt;/strong&gt; Gosh, did I ever love this game when I was young. There was something about the art nouveau style of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://members.aol.com/starlingv/bridecards.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and the soft pastel colors that just captivated the girly-girl side of me. I could never decide whether to be a Formal Evening Bride or an Informal Bride (with that oh-so-chic floppy picture hat). This is another one I was compelled to re-purchase as a grown-up. (I can't ever imagine a time when I might have said "sure, let's throw away the Bride Game", but I guess it happened somehow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhuv8xmlUiI/AAAAAAAAAFM/ttc-EGhFk24/s1600-h/trickymick.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051824865668321826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhuv8xmlUiI/AAAAAAAAAFM/ttc-EGhFk24/s200/trickymick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Tricky Mickey Magic Colorforms -&lt;/strong&gt; Technically not a game, but I couldn't exclude this childhood favorite. I wonder how many little kids actually tried to amaze their friends with this thing? I mean, by the age of four or five, the concepts of transparency and color matching are pretty much concrete, right? It was still a fun set, though. Now if I could only find the other Disney colorforms I had as a child, featuring Horace Horsecollar, Clarabelle Cow and a three-dimensional pop-up stage, I'd be truly fulfilled. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuwmBmlUjI/AAAAAAAAAFU/h3N2xxbFJ4E/s1600-h/stayalive.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051825574337925682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhuwmBmlUjI/AAAAAAAAAFU/h3N2xxbFJ4E/s200/stayalive.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay Alive -&lt;/strong&gt; The original survivor game. The TV commercial featured a group of kids stranded on a desert island, a la Lord Of The Flies. The game washes ashore: "Let's play!" Despite &lt;em&gt;Stay Alive's&lt;/em&gt; hideous colors(especially those olive green and burnt orange marbles), I always liked this game. It was a front-porch favorite -- when I was growing up, we kept most of my games on the front porch. It worked out well for rainy days; if I had to come in from playing, I could just pull in a friend or two and we'd be occupied for the rest of the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the full list of games I found in my attic this week. So... got any board game memories of your own to share?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abalone - The Amazing Game Board Book - Backgammon - Barrel of Monkeys - Batman &amp;amp; Robin Monopoly - Battleship - Quest For Makuta Bionicle Adventure Game - Blinkers - Boggle - Brainquest - The Bride Game - Candyland - Chairs - Chess - Chutes And Ladders - Clue - Connect Four - The Couch Potato Game - Cranium Cadoo - Doonesbury - Facts In Five - Fairly OddParents - The Great Dalmuti - Guess Who? - Hands Down - Happiness - Harry Potter Trivia - Jenga - Life - Marvel Trivia - Mastermind - Mexican Train and Chicken House Domino Game - Monopoly - Mousetrap - Nickelodeon Ultimate Trivia - Operation - Outburst - Outburst, Jr. - Pocket Farkel - Pokemon Master Trainer - Pokemon Monopoly - Pop Smarts - Rack-O - Rugrats Uno - Scattergories - Set - Settlers of Catan Travel Edition - Skip-Bo - 'Smath - Snail's Pace Race - Song Burst 50's and 60's Edition - Sorry - Squint - Stage II - Star Wars Epic Duels - Stare - Stay Alive - Stratego - Think 'N' Jump - Tipover - Top Trumps Lord Of The Rings - Top Trumps Simpsons - Top Trumps Star Wars - Total It! - Tri-Ominoes - Trivial Pursuit 20th Anniversary Edition - Trivial Pursuit Volume II - Uno - Wordrop - Yahtzee - Yahtzee Jr. Pokemon Edition&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3351118369734260159?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3351118369734260159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3351118369734260159' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3351118369734260159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3351118369734260159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/ten-of-70-games-i-found-in-attic.html' title='Ten Of The 70 Games I Found In The Attic'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhq_a8_slcI/AAAAAAAAADc/0o0kkdz-q8s/s72-c/mexicant.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-210196011919108369</id><published>2007-04-08T01:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T01:46:22.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Enter Easter..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhh-Ys_slZI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZvPRIloEzdc/s1600-h/EasterTheatreCover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhh-Ys_slZI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZvPRIloEzdc/s400/EasterTheatreCover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050925944956294546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhh_Fs_slaI/AAAAAAAAADM/52jD39zSdsw/s1600-h/EasterTheatreLyrics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhh_Fs_slaI/AAAAAAAAADM/52jD39zSdsw/s400/EasterTheatreLyrics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050926718050407842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-210196011919108369?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/210196011919108369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=210196011919108369' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/210196011919108369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/210196011919108369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/enter-easter.html' title='&quot;Enter Easter...&quot;'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rhh-Ys_slZI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZvPRIloEzdc/s72-c/EasterTheatreCover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4189593817056351086</id><published>2007-04-06T08:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T10:03:57.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Thing I Read This Morning</title><content type='html'>The featured poem on &lt;a href="http://www.elabs7.com/functions/message_view.html?mid=136509&amp;mlid=499&amp;amp;siteid=20130&amp;amp;uid=0e1d88b449"&gt;Writer's Almanac&lt;/a&gt; today affected me more than I can even say. I don't even know what I would wish more: to be able to write like this, or to be written about in this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4189593817056351086?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4189593817056351086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4189593817056351086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4189593817056351086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4189593817056351086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/first-thing-i-read-this-morning.html' title='The First Thing I Read This Morning'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-2633746387214052611</id><published>2007-04-03T13:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T14:39:28.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Cats</title><content type='html'>More cats... I can't help it; they're "my favorite beings" as The Boy used to say. This picture is actually a kitty litter advertisement that I scanned and now use as my wallpaper at work.  Click it for the big version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhKUYysyPFI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SOCKItzMjps/s1600-h/Catscatscats.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhKUYysyPFI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SOCKItzMjps/s400/Catscatscats.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049261285883133010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-2633746387214052611?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/2633746387214052611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=2633746387214052611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2633746387214052611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2633746387214052611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/bad-cats.html' title='Bad Cats'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhKUYysyPFI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SOCKItzMjps/s72-c/Catscatscats.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4717201584866003053</id><published>2007-04-01T13:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T16:51:54.827-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Awakening</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon I visited my mom.  She still lives in the house where I spent my adolescent and teen years.  I used to do a lot of walking in the woods behind our house -- it was where I first felt connected to nature, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes as early as February, the yellow aconite are already popping out through the snow and dead leaves in the woods.  Yesterday they were in full, abundant blossom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_tXysyO9I/AAAAAAAAAB8/T5DQJDqLbZs/s1600-h/DSC00027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_tXysyO9I/AAAAAAAAAB8/T5DQJDqLbZs/s400/DSC00027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048514700308003794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as lovely, if more delicate, were this crocus and its neighboring crocus-to-be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_ulSsyO-I/AAAAAAAAACE/TuKL2BsiEoU/s1600-h/DSC00030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_ulSsyO-I/AAAAAAAAACE/TuKL2BsiEoU/s400/DSC00030.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048516031747865570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at home, springtime made itself known mostly through its effect on kitty behavior.  Pip wanted out very badly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhAbPCsyPEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/7dF8D_XEwkg/s1600-h/DSC00021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhAbPCsyPEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/7dF8D_XEwkg/s400/DSC00021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048565127519026242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_wpysyO_I/AAAAAAAAACM/Eald_CtBjvo/s1600-h/DSC00017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_wpysyO_I/AAAAAAAAACM/Eald_CtBjvo/s400/DSC00017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048518308080532466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhAafCsyPCI/AAAAAAAAACk/agG5zXNq3v4/s1600-h/DSC00019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RhAafCsyPCI/AAAAAAAAACk/agG5zXNq3v4/s400/DSC00019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048564302885305378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust was already in the sunny driveway, snuggling the blacktop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_w9CsyPAI/AAAAAAAAACU/y1AFwSQyqRQ/s1600-h/DSC00036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_w9CsyPAI/AAAAAAAAACU/y1AFwSQyqRQ/s400/DSC00036.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048518638793014274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And laid-back Millie, who had been out all Friday night, decided to just curl up on the comforter in a sunny bedroom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_x5SsyPBI/AAAAAAAAACc/iBMfqFgNFSc/s1600-h/DSC00016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_x5SsyPBI/AAAAAAAAACc/iBMfqFgNFSc/s400/DSC00016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048519673880132626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The humans of the house have had to devise a verbal shorthand to keep track of which cats are indoors and which are outside.  AKI (pronounced AH-key) means "all kitties in", while AKO (AH-koh) is "all kitties out".  Something tells me that more and more AKO days are on the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4717201584866003053?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4717201584866003053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4717201584866003053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4717201584866003053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4717201584866003053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/04/spring-awakening.html' title='Spring Awakening'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg_tXysyO9I/AAAAAAAAAB8/T5DQJDqLbZs/s72-c/DSC00027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3753090268358487926</id><published>2007-03-31T18:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T18:52:22.251-04:00</updated><title type='text'>EggsTC.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg7jvisyO8I/AAAAAAAAAB0/kjnfPNjiUHU/s1600-h/DSC00040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg7jvisyO8I/AAAAAAAAAB0/kjnfPNjiUHU/s400/DSC00040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048222638236908482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter, equinox, new life... on this sunny day I decided to haul out my big box of paints and pay oval homage to XTC album art of yore.  Happy spring to all.  In just one more week, we'll have one &lt;em&gt;bonne ideé&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3753090268358487926?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3753090268358487926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3753090268358487926' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3753090268358487926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3753090268358487926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/eggstc.html' title='EggsTC.'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rg7jvisyO8I/AAAAAAAAAB0/kjnfPNjiUHU/s72-c/DSC00040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-7185624975157565636</id><published>2007-03-29T17:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T17:46:51.292-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Idea For An Afternoon Outing</title><content type='html'>Idea for an afternoon outing: wait&lt;br /&gt;until you are in a weepy mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your car to a picturesque setting&lt;br /&gt;or scenic overlook.  Something&lt;br /&gt;with waterfowl is best. Park. &lt;br /&gt;Wish you had something to feed the ducks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dial your phone. Call your ex-love and confess &lt;br /&gt;every jealous thought. Be sure to clearly&lt;br /&gt;convey your agony; sniffle a lot. &lt;br /&gt;Insult his girlfriend. &lt;br /&gt;Hang up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chew breath mints and drive &lt;br /&gt;to your childhood neighborhood. Sob&lt;br /&gt;at the sight of your old house&lt;br /&gt;wrapped in Tyvek, skateboard ramps&lt;br /&gt;and broken scooters on the lawn.  &lt;br /&gt;Blink hard and turn up the stereo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pull into the supermarket parking lot&lt;br /&gt;to buy crackers&lt;br /&gt;and make friends with seagulls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-7185624975157565636?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/7185624975157565636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=7185624975157565636' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/7185624975157565636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/7185624975157565636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/idea-for-afternoon-outing.html' title='Idea For An Afternoon Outing'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-6333800105235650507</id><published>2007-03-28T07:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T08:37:23.744-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Comical 2</title><content type='html'>This one's from Glenn McCoy's daily strip, "The Duplex":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgpX9SsyO6I/AAAAAAAAABk/pydy0glv5zM/s1600-h/Duplex+3-28.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgpX9SsyO6I/AAAAAAAAABk/pydy0glv5zM/s400/Duplex+3-28.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046943042925378466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-6333800105235650507?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/6333800105235650507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=6333800105235650507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6333800105235650507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/6333800105235650507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/comical-2.html' title='Comical 2'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgpX9SsyO6I/AAAAAAAAABk/pydy0glv5zM/s72-c/Duplex+3-28.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3262861151057496535</id><published>2007-03-27T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T01:14:42.531-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"The ardors and arbors of Ardis"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rgm0iysyO5I/AAAAAAAAABc/64RmUUZPSdM/s1600-h/lolita_hayes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rgm0iysyO5I/AAAAAAAAABc/64RmUUZPSdM/s200/lolita_hayes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046763367263517586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  Put this at the top of my list of "Sites I Wish I Had Created":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ada.auckland.ac.nz/index.htm"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ada&lt;/i&gt; Online&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite Nabokov novel annotated online.  The motif index and especially the images index just make me want to dive back into the text and not resurface until September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ada&lt;/i&gt; has always been a summer novel for me -- opening it again is the one thing I can always look forward to, vacation or no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3262861151057496535?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3262861151057496535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3262861151057496535' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3262861151057496535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3262861151057496535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/ardors-and-arbors-of-ardis.html' title='&quot;The ardors and arbors of Ardis&quot;'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/Rgm0iysyO5I/AAAAAAAAABc/64RmUUZPSdM/s72-c/lolita_hayes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-1055475540973683701</id><published>2007-03-26T22:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T14:05:46.477-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Things Spoiled For Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;The green sunlight through August leaves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old men on front porches in rocking chairs,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apples and pumpkins and woodsmoke in autumn,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stretching cats,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rainbows,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any smell emitted from your grandmother's kitchen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wandering clouds,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shipless oceans,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The heart's wisdom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that time in summer, just before twilight, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when children's parents call them in to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-1055475540973683701?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/1055475540973683701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=1055475540973683701' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1055475540973683701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/1055475540973683701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/ten-things-spoiled-for-poetry.html' title='Ten Things Spoiled For Poetry'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-5455325687138207213</id><published>2007-03-26T22:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T20:01:16.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Of A Sudden (It's Too Late) - XTC</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3KoWcbGMLTI"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3KoWcbGMLTI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-5455325687138207213?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/5455325687138207213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=5455325687138207213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5455325687138207213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/5455325687138207213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/all-of-sudden-its-too-late.html' title='All Of A Sudden (It&apos;s Too Late) - XTC'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-7013165507997243702</id><published>2007-03-25T11:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T20:06:30.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Comical</title><content type='html'>Happy birthday, Elton!  I wonder who'll walk him down to church?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, this comic made me laugh this morning. It's from a strip called Domestic Abuse by Jeremy Lambros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgaRgQ8oiqI/AAAAAAAAABM/xtznBBKITXc/s1600-h/Domestic+Abuse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgaRgQ8oiqI/AAAAAAAAABM/xtznBBKITXc/s400/Domestic+Abuse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045880416006343330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mycomicspage.com"&gt;Mycomicspage.com&lt;/a&gt; is a free subscription site for daily e-mails filled with comic strips -- they let you choose your favorites and there's a nice wide selection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-7013165507997243702?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/7013165507997243702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=7013165507997243702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/7013165507997243702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/7013165507997243702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/comical.html' title='Comical'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgaRgQ8oiqI/AAAAAAAAABM/xtznBBKITXc/s72-c/Domestic+Abuse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-4878385476064518498</id><published>2007-03-23T21:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T17:13:36.955-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 1974 and the hits are on WTLB-AM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgSmwQ8oioI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U-T3P8-YJZQ/s1600-h/grade5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgSmwQ8oioI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U-T3P8-YJZQ/s320/grade5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045340830675012226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do the songs kids hear on the radio when they're about 8 or 9 years old stay in their consciousness forever? Around the time the charming portrait on the left was taken, here's what was in heavy rotation on WTLB-AM 1310:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Band on the Run, Beach Baby, Bennie And The Jets, Carefree Highway, Cat's In The Cradle, Clap For The Wolfman, Come Monday, Dark Lady, Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing, Earache My Eye, Hooked On A Feeling (the one by Blue Swede, of course), Jet, Junior's Farm, Life Is A Rock, The Night Chicago Died, Oh My My, Rikki Don't Lose That Number, Rock Me Gently, Rock The Boat, Seasons In The Sun, Sister Mary Elephant, Stop And Smell The Roses, The Streak, Sundown, Sunshine On my Shoulders,  Tell Me Something Good, Tin Man, Waterloo, Wildwood Weed, You Haven't Done Nothin'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cheech and Chongs and the Jim Staffords among them were just good fun, but some of the more sublime songs still evoke a particular memory or image, even when I hear them today. I'm in my mother's car feeling sad as the wailing synths of "Band on the Run" drift through the dashboard speakers; sitting on my sunny front porch serenading my cat with "Seasons In The Sun", and brushing my ponytails in the morning while "Beach Baby" blasts on my alarm clock radio (alas, it must not have been blasting on the morning of school picture day).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...what's on your "grade school gold" list?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-4878385476064518498?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/4878385476064518498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=4878385476064518498' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4878385476064518498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/4878385476064518498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-1974-and-hits-are-on-wtlb-am.html' title='It&apos;s 1974 and the hits are on WTLB-AM'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgSmwQ8oioI/AAAAAAAAAA8/U-T3P8-YJZQ/s72-c/grade5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-3298595858873932988</id><published>2007-03-22T18:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T00:27:39.537-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='billy collins'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Billy Collins</title><content type='html'>Here is one of my favorite poems of his; I heard him read it on&lt;em&gt; A Prairie Home Companion &lt;/em&gt;a few years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Forgetfulness&lt;/u&gt; by Billy Collins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name of the author is the first to go&lt;br /&gt;followed obediently by the title, the plot,&lt;br /&gt;the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel&lt;br /&gt;which suddenly becomes one you have never read,&lt;br /&gt;never even heard of,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor&lt;br /&gt;decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,&lt;br /&gt;to a little fishing village where there are no phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye&lt;br /&gt;and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,&lt;br /&gt;and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,&lt;br /&gt;the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,&lt;br /&gt;it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,&lt;br /&gt;not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has floated away down a dark mythological river&lt;br /&gt;whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,&lt;br /&gt;well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those&lt;br /&gt;who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder you rise in the middle of the night&lt;br /&gt;to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.&lt;br /&gt;No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted&lt;br /&gt;out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-3298595858873932988?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/3298595858873932988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=3298595858873932988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3298595858873932988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/3298595858873932988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/happy-birthday-billy-collins.html' title='Happy Birthday, Billy Collins'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-2665909031616108348</id><published>2007-03-22T00:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T09:55:31.738-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magnus organ'/><title type='text'>"What's so funny about Biggus Dickus?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgIVRQ8oimI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sKzuFSniWeE/s1600-h/magnusphoto+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044617918959618658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgIVRQ8oimI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sKzuFSniWeE/s320/magnusphoto+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgITug8oilI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BVhQd9M4C58/s1600-h/magnusphoto+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Songs I played as a child on my Magnus organ: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Moon River&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ghost Riders In The Sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sweet Violets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nature Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Me And My Shadow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tenderly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Prisoner Of Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;There Is A Tavern In The Town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-2665909031616108348?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/2665909031616108348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=2665909031616108348' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2665909031616108348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/2665909031616108348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/biggusdickus.html' title='&quot;What&apos;s so funny about Biggus Dickus?&quot;'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/RgIVRQ8oimI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sKzuFSniWeE/s72-c/magnusphoto+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-8037073313168928047</id><published>2007-03-21T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T19:01:00.095-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chiggers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='libraries'/><title type='text'>Community Patron Breakdown</title><content type='html'>What can I do to make myself look less approachable? Should I get a big ugly nose ring? Forehead studs? A mohawk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick (Nick O'Tine, we're calling him, referencing his odor) is bad enough, but today an entirely different scruffy-looking old man in a red sweatsuit with white hair and a beard was wandering around the library. A staff member wondered out loud what he was doing here. I suggested he might be preparing to hand out presents with his elves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lingered at the circulation desk, at the reference desk, and finally at my office door (of course). He noticed my name on my door and asked me about its origin. I told him it was my ex-husband's name and that it was possibly French Canadian. He had a lot to say about the German meanings of my last name, and after saying it all, he asked to sit down (because of his bad leg).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What he was after, apparently, were books about chiggers, lice and other skin parasites that infest humans and pets. He proceeded to tell me about the "pubic crabs" he picked up in the army, and how there was no shame in it, really, as he only got them by sitting on another infected man's bunk. I was horrified, but also trying hard not to laugh. He soon went into such startling and excruciating detail that I really thought I must be dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll tell you something interesting," he said to me (he must have mistaken my stifled laughter for a yawn) "because you look like an interesting woman. You're an interesting person to look at." Oh, god. I began to type and stare at my screen. He told me about follicle mites, which live in our lashes and brows all the time, without our even noticing. Then I heard all about the dogs he raises. And about all of&lt;em&gt; their&lt;/em&gt; parasites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I consulted the Internet for him ("I don't know how to run a computer"), he asked me how many times I'd been married. When I told him I preferred not to answer personal questions, he informed me that he didn't relate well to women, not even to his 87-year-old mother. He talked about the trials of being his mother's caregiver as I printed two articles from WebMD for him. I asked him if he'd like to take a walk with me to retrieve his printouts (I sent the job to the printer furthest away from my office).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the printer, he thanked me, asked if I knew where he could get lessons on running a computer, asked me if there were any library books he could use to research his surname, whether we had any books with coats of arms, and whether he could look up his surname on the Welsh exhibit interactive stations ("Yes! Please go ahead!") even though he wasn't Welsh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came back to my office a final time to thank me yet again. What will I do when he returns? Because you just know he will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I need to go and Lysol my chair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-8037073313168928047?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/8037073313168928047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=8037073313168928047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/8037073313168928047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/8037073313168928047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/community-patron-breakdown.html' title='Community Patron Breakdown'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8004389380446722748.post-8831706822902980630</id><published>2007-03-21T06:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T22:39:42.729-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beatles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ono'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>In My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This week I've been thinking about my earliest awareness of the Beatles. In rough chronological order, here's some of what I can remember:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My aunt's copy of Meet The Beatles and a few of the orange and yellow label 45s (I think “Yellow Submarine” was one) seemed always to be lying around upstairs at my grandmother's house where I lived. I remember stacking up The Beatles and Johnny Cash and Mister Rogers on the spindle of our fold-up record player, latching the arm over them and letting them drop and play, one by one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;In the apartment my mom and I had for a while, I remember playing by myself in the back hallway near the stairs and hearing "Hey Jude" on American Top 40 on the radio. This was too late for it to actually be in the charts, so it must have been a long-distance dedication or some other type of featured tune.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My neighbor across the street, a boy named Johnny, was one of my earliest friends. He had sequential obsessions that he would talk about constantly: airplanes, insects, coins, the revolutionary war, Wacky Packages and, eventually, the Beatles. He seemed to know the names of all of their songs and albums, but I'm sure he didn't own any. He would recount for me the plots of Beatles cartoon episodes (I only remember seeing a few of these myself) and think up original ones, too. I have a very vivid image in my mind of the two of us playing with a set of little lock-together plastic clowns while "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" (which I was sure was a Beatles song) played on the radio.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laurie, my friend in fifth and sixth grade, wore Beatles t-shirts to school almost every day and had ALL of their albums. I remember reading a newspaper article about John to her over the phone. It might have been about Sean's birth. I couldn't pronounce "Yoko Ono" at the time -- it was the first time I'd seen the name. About this time I started to notice Beatles movies showing up on cable TV. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Another friend had the blue and red albums, which I taped with my stepfather's reel-to-reel and played constantly. Soon after, I made my first Beatles purchase: the White Album. I eventually hung the four included portraits in my high school locker. Somewhere in there I also bought Magical Mystery Tour, but I think I may have traded it in for a Doors LP.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I remember doing research on the Beatles in my junior high school library, finding magazine and newspaper articles about them, but no books that I recall. I bought "In Their Own Words" and "The Beatles Trivia Quiz Book" and had them nearly memorized.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I sometimes listened to Abbey Road in the high school music room with my tenth-grade boyfriend at lunch.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think I got both the Rarities and Double Fantasy albums the year John died. The week after his death, someone stole his picture from my locker.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My college roommate Alison was a great Beatles fan. She played me all their fan club and Christmas messages and taught me how to play "All Together Now" on her guitar. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ten years later, I met my best friend John, one of the foremost Beatles experts anywhere. When we met, he made mix tapes for me including demos and alternate versions of my favorite songs, as well as tapes of his TBH radio show. He went on to write a successful series of books about the Beatles' recorded history and continues to write and publish books about the Beatles. Hell yes, I'm proud of him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after piecing these memories together, I can't really figure out when or how I learned all the words to all of their songs on all of their albums. To me, Beatles music has been something that just exists, like oxygen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8004389380446722748-8831706822902980630?l=starlingv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/feeds/8831706822902980630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8004389380446722748&amp;postID=8831706822902980630' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/8831706822902980630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8004389380446722748/posts/default/8831706822902980630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://starlingv.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-my-life.html' title='In My Life'/><author><name>Starling</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14759741378960342665</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjbrRQp_wk8/SkC-xHxA6kI/AAAAAAAAAV4/68enkILP5lM/S220/librarian.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
