1. I'm seeing more clearly than ever, as Edith Wharton develops the made up reality Newland Archer is living in, that, in fact, his imagined reality of a romantic affair with Countess Ellen Olenska is an inferior, unsustainable dream, primarily because all that exists between them, at least, so far in the novel, are furtive, quickly stolen, and intense sensations. It's painful to read. The Grade B movie he mistakes for reality in his life might be Grade D.
2. Debbie turned a can of salmon into delicious cakes and prepared a tasty creamy sauce to put on them. She also baked a squash and made a splendid green salad. We had enough left over that we'll be able to have this dinner again soon.
3. Stu and I message back and forth in the mornings. Stu's been writing limericks in his retirement and he's decided to try to lighten up the darkness of the pandemic a bit by writing more of them during this time. Today he asked me if I would share his work at the end of my blog posts. I am happy to. So, here is a limerick by Scott Stuart, remembering the Kellogg of our youth.
Remember gray air of childhood
And the river's not clear as it should.
Hillside's brown with no trees
But most who remembers agrees.
If they could go back in time that they would.
No comments:
Post a Comment