Sunday was a perfect day out at the farm. Bright, not too hot, under a sky so blue and clear it looked as if it were out of a badly CGI’d fantasy. I rode Bowie, a red and white paint. Not Frisbee; I think I need to catch you all up on things because sadly, I no longer ride Frisbee. You see, his spookiness had progressed to the point in which he had become too Read more…
This is the house where Jane Austen and her family lived for several years. The house was a modest cottage, and I think it must have been the model for the cottage the Dashwoods were exiled to. (Aside: Austen’s portrayal of how the brother disinherits his stepmother and stepsisters is a modern illustration of the process of rationalization and where it takes us. She really was better at human behavior than her current popularity gives Read more…
“They laid down the king they had dearly loved, their tall ring-giver, in the center of the ship, the mighty by the mast. Great treasure was there, bright gold and silver, gems from far lands.” –“The Funeral of Scyld Scefing,” from Beowulf, translated by Howell D. Chickering, Jr. “Once [the dragon] had controlled the air in joys, had ridden the wind throughout the night…now he lay there stiff in death. Beside him were piled pitchers Read more…