Later on today, I'll be flying of to the other side of the country. I expect to
have some computer access, but I expect I'll only be able to update here
sporadically, if at all.
But today, I'm all about peer pressure. After reading
href="http://comfortfood.diaryland.com">Comfortfood and D, I feel the need to
mention the chicken/sausage/shrimp gumbo I made the other day. I'd post the
recipe, but it's right out of the Bubba Gump cookbook, and I didn't change much,
other than to add in some Tony Chacere's Cajun seasoning, because I can't cook
Cajun or Creole without Tony. And how can you go wrong, with an entire cookbook
full of shrimp recipes? They claimed it would make 4.5 quarts, though, whereas my
gumbo boiled down sufficiently that we had just about enough for two dinners
(apiece), plus a lunch for me.
And, after reading Geni and
href="http://mechaieh.diaryland.com">Mechaieh, not to mention my own early
entries, I realize how much more rarely I post poetry than I used to. I haven't
gotten started on the terza rima I wanted to do for Poetica, so instead, band because I'll be spending half
of today aloft, here's one of my favorites by Gerald Manley Hopkins. To Hopkins,
this was about Christ, but to me, it's about flying. Maybe there's not a total
disagreement there.
I CAUGHT this morning morningÕs minion, king-
dom of daylightÕs dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skateÕs heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, o the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
Today I am thankful for: Hopkins' swinging rhymes and mastery of words.
(And, descending to the mundane, also that my gumbo turned out well.)
Concept II Holiday Challenge: 85928 meters left
Posted by dichroic at December 6, 2001 04:59 PM