Happy New Year - 1/1/11 !!!

As the sun peeks over the ridge on the first day of 2011, I hope you have your black-eyed peas and hog jowl for good luck, as well as collard greens to put money in your pockets. . . or that you have the necessary accouterments for whatever tradition you follow -- be it first footers, Christmas tree bonfires, picnics on the beach, fireworks . . .

May it be a good New Year for all of us on Spaceship Earth!!!

 

Disco Balls

It's here.

The last day of the year.

A time for reflection and a time for looking forward.

A moment to pause.

A moment to grieve, appreciate and celebrate.

A moment to plan and hope.

Have fun tonight, be safe, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Goodbye, Christmas

The cold last day of the year

And I put away the ornaments,

Pack up the Nativities,

Return the Santas to the old trunk

And, as my grandmother taught,

Make sure that the tree is out of the house

Before the New Year comes in.

More Christmas Books

Helen asked if I got any more books and the answer is a resounding Yes!   

Red Lily is one I asked for -- on Kay Byer's recommendation. "Isabel Zuber's poems weave their way quietly and sinuously into the reader's ear and imagination.  Their emotional landscape pulses with mystery mixed with a keen-eyed awareness of life's seasons and the reverberations that ripple ceaselesly from that knowledge."


Oh, yes. They do, indeed.

My niece, who reads my blog and has probably noted that I like wandering about graveyards and looking at old headstones, sent me this terrific field guide(profusely illustrated) to cemetery symbolism and iconography. 

I absolutely love it. And I forsee taking some day trips to graveyards farther afield.

My sister-in-law sent this charming old book -- copyright 1885. It's set in a boy's school that reminds me in many ways of the Plumfield of Alcott's Little Men. Most of the boys are manly little fellows and the girls are paragons of womanly virtue. It should be cloying but it isn't, at least not to me. But then I grew up reading my grandmother's old books. And it's a painless way to research the era.

Interestingly enough, the illustrations --"by the best American and English artists" -- seem to have been gathered nilly-willy and fit to the story, much as we bloggers glean images from the Internet.

 

The Encyclopedia of the Exquisite, a fascinating and eclectic little book, roams all over the place from lazzi (comic gags used by Renaissance actors) to confetti (originally candied fruits) . . .

 

to omelets, frilly lingerie, big hair and beyond.

The Hare with Amber Eyes is the story of a wealthy, cultivated Viennese family who, because they were Jews, lost everything on the Nazis' entry into Austria. Everything, that is, but a collection of netsukes. I've just begun and am really enjoying it.

The hefty package from my son and daughter-in-law had the clue "interred in the desert sands"on the label. (In the family, we put clues on our gifts to one another and try to guess what's inside before ripping the paper off.)

I should have guessed but the size and the weight had me confused. It's a Doonesbury Retrospective and I'm having a great time filling in the years I missed before I discovered that I could begin my day with a fresh Doonesbury on line.

So, what are you reading? 

A merry Cthulhu to all and to all a good night.

Awake Ye Scary Great Old Ones

The Joy of Toys

I have a Christmas Eve tradition of taking the boys to a toy store to pick out gifts for each other.

The last two years we've spent Christmas in Austin, so their favorite toy store choice has been Toy Joy.

They carry things like Convert To Judaism Breath Spray, Jesus Bandages, 

Hannukah rubber ducks and lots of other crazy toys.

They carry everything goofy and funny.  

Bulging eyeball glasses, owl keychains, peanut erasers, Ugly dolls, etc.

This was something new I'd never seen before:

Japanese Imported Radioactive Rainbow Children!

Did you see anything strange this Christmas?

Any bizarre gifts given or received?

Mountain Born

Mountain Born by Jean Boone Benfield is "a recollection of life and language in Western North Carolina" and I highly recommend it to any of you who have an interest in the folkways of Appalachia.

I don't know the author (who grew up in the next county) but much of what she writes is familiar to me -- and delightful!


Ms. Bennfield writes of growing up in the Forties and Fifties, of Asheville at that time, of food and farms and family life, of traditions and superstitions, and, best of all, she lists some seven hundred old words and sayings --'some not fit for polite society.'

"Helpless as a one-legged man at an ass-kicking" is one of my favorites. And "not enough sense to pee a hole in the snow." And -- well, I could go on.

For those of you who've told me that my books remind you of your grandparents or other kin, this is a book you'll love!

Thank you, Ms. Benfield, for this loving, witty, and wise compilation of memories!

In other news -- we had a whole day of sunshine yesterday! What a pleasure! 

Merry Christmas

I can celebrate Christmas anywhere.

It's the people who matter.

Being with family and friends.

That's the most important part of Christmas.

FAQ - Classes

Q: Do you do online writing classes? I don't live in the Asheville area but would love to take a class with you.

A: Alas, no online classes. The ones I teach through the Great Smokies Writing Program (see side bar) keep me pretty busy.  But if any of you are interested in spending a week in the mountains and doing a class, I will be teaching at Wildacres Writing Workshop, July 9 -16. 

There are classes in non-fiction, flash fiction, poetry, short story, and novel writing.  And if that doesn't tempt some of you prolific bloggers out there . . .

My class will be  'contemporary commercial fiction' -- that basically means popular fiction as opposed to literary (though some popular fiction is rather literary and some literary fiction is popular . . . )

The tuition, which includes room and board is pretty reasonable.  And there are a few scholarships available.

 I'm really excited about this opportunity. Ron Rash, just to drop a name, is leading the short story class  and I'm hopeful I'll get a chance to sit in at some point. And the poetry offering is so tempting . . .


I haven't been to Wildacres before but the area is beautiful and I've heard nothing but good things about the facility and the food and the programs.


Do check out the links.   It sounds fairly idyllic.

Lots o' Snow

Oh my, so much snow!  Our road was impassable to vehicles -- even with chains -- on Christmas and on Boxing Day.  Our friends from the other side of the county couldn't make it here for Christmas and we couldn't get out to the traditional Boxing Day party at other friends' house.

So far, so good. We have power, an embarrassing amount of food and sparkling wine, books and toys to play with . . . and more snow in the forecast. We aren't going anywhere.

 

I Wish I'd Written This . . .

"This way -- in here."

His urgency was apparent as he caught me in a firm grasp just above my elbow and guided me into the room -- his room. Then he shut the door and we were alone.

I could feel my heart beating faster as he approached me from behind.  His voice, low and reassuring, was gentle.

"Just relax," he murmured and, with no further warning, reached down. I felt his strong,  hands at my ankles, gently probing, moving upward along my calves  -- slowly, oh, so slowly.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so experienced, so sure.

When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. 

My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.

Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.

Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant.

 This, this is a man, I thought.  A man used to taking charge. . . a man who won't take`no' for an answer.  . . a man who will tell me what he wants . . . who will look into my soul and say . . .

"Okay, ma'am, all done."

My eyes snapped open. He was standing in front of me, smiling and holding out my purse. 

"You may board your flight now."

~~~~~~~~

This is one of those funny things that floats around the internet. I don't know who wrote it.  The photos aren't by me either but by Louisa Stokes and Unknown.

To All of You. . .

Bewitched Bunny- 1954

Bewitched Bunny (1954)- Chuck Jones director

Man Shops World- Australia

A couple of friends have been telling me that I have to see this episode because the artists they feature are so up my ally. I finally found a really amazing blog post about both of the artists Noelle Rigaudie, and Anna-wili Highfield on justblog.com (and now I must subscribe to this blog as well becasue it's beautiful). Here are some examples of their work.














Noelle Rigaudie's creations are made mostly out of cardboard...





















Anna-wili Highfield sculpts in heavey artist papers with accents done in paint and watercolor...