Saturday, October 19, 2013

Kensington to Frederick to Hagerstown to Hancock to Sideling Hill to Cumberland to Morgantown to Washington to Wheeling to Zanesville to Gambier Plus Serendipity Is Great Even When Delivering Sadness

  • As I mentioned last night, saw someone yesterday who looked uncannily like Montag on Sideling Hill. You can see him again in some of Earthgirl's photos in slideshow.
  • Today is Hungarian omelet rolls in Wooster then visit to Oberlin and dinner in Vermillion.
  • So this is how I turned into a dog
  • One dang: :-p of Airport Through the Trees is visiting DC this weekend, we've talked of drinks, I always chose, choose, will choose Planet first, but dang. Next time. Any travelog he posts I'll link to.
  • The book of old sundials
  • So this is the aftermath.
  • Dear L, thank you. Not at Undamnastan yet, but at least can see it on the horizon. Much love.
  • Lots on and by Catherine Wagner, one of my next big projects.
  • We listen to at least one Lambchop album on the way out and the way back each and every trip. Have I ever mentioned I love Lambchop? Yesterday the album was Is a Woman, this morning I learn of the passing of Marc Trovillion. Serendipity is awesome even when it's awful.


John Ashbery

The drive down was smooth
but after we arrived things started to go haywire,
first one thing and then another. The days
scudded past like tumbleweed, slow then fast,
then slow again. The sky was sweet and plain.
You remember how still it was then,
a season putting its arms into a coat and staying unwrapped
for a long, a little time.

It was during the week we talked about deforestation.
How sad that everything has to change,
yet what a relief, too! Otherwise we’d only have
looking forward to look forward to.
The moment would be a bud
that never filled, only persevered
in a static trance, before it came to be no more.

We’d walked a little way in our shoes.
I was sure you’d remember how it had been
the other time, before the messenger came to your door
and seemed to want to peer in and size up the place.
So each evening became a forbidden morning
of thunder and curdled milk, though the invoices
got forwarded and birds settled on the periphery.