Posts Tagged ‘rambling’

Wish I’d had my camera in reach last night– if either Mike or I had gotten up to get it, the picture would have moved.

Snark was curled up next to me on the couch in one of her typical pretzel poses. Looking down at her from my seated vantage, I suddenly realized that she was doing the classic celtic knotwork cat pose, and obviously enjoying it very much. When I would rub her tummy, she would stretch her limbs further into the pose!

Her back and head made most of a circle (250ish degrees of arc). Bottom front and back legs stretched out to make an obtuse angle, a wide V that hung partly over the edge of the couch. Top front and back legs were the opposite, going towards her middle. Back leg and foot came out partway across the inner circle arc, with foot stretched out so it was parallel to the bottom-layer front foot that splayed outward. Top-layer front arm and foot stretched way out parallel to the bottom-layer back leg, and grabbing top-layer back leg firmly above the hock. Tail, between legs, came into the middle in a rounded concave arc, which became convex, with the last couple of inches of tail recurving like a bow-tip.

Sounds *really complicated*, gotta start leaving the camera on the coffee table when I sit on the couch at night. She does this all the time, and I never quite recognized it before. Had been reading the Geographic article on Jamestown and the Penobscot farming practices earlier in the day, and looking at the paint patterns of the Penobscot man depicted in the article, which led to thinking about celtic bodywork patterns, and then the “oh!” lightbulb, looking down at the Snarkster. Cool!


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…though Robert Herrick might pass.

I love that Mike and I can start from Monty Python and end up at Ozymandias, but sometimes it’s hard to get to sleep afterwards. I was about 80% right, I forgot the stanza about ‘its sculptor well those passions read…’ like I almost always do. I wanted to look it up, and that poem that was with it in the anthology in… 4th? 5th? grade. I went through the English books fast enough that from about 3rd – 8th grade, the teachers would hand me a succession of English books that they weren’t teaching from and say, “here, read this and keep track of where we are in the regular book for when it’s your turn to read aloud.” One book had some *great* poetry in it that I remember some of still, including a piece that, thanks to the Goog, I now know is “Overheard in a Salt Marsh”. Ah, those green glass beads. Give them me.

At any rate, I ended up on a page of somebody’s syllabus, and have been poking through poetry bitz. Coleridge’s Mariner, yes, yes, and all the boreds did shriek (silently, in class) although I love the scansion. Great epic poems of the Romantic era apparently includes a lithesome, or lissome, if one prefers, ditty known as Chrisabel. This definition of ‘great’ would be directly out of The Princess Bride, as in, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” However I will forgive both naive Chrisabel and sneaky-snake Geraldine (oh! GRENDALine, my Freudian typo!) because I found this great snarkass commentary on Kublai Khan.

Q: Why a dome?

A: What?

Q: Well, it’s just that I’ve noticed that Coleridge talks about this “Pleasure Dome” thing a lot and I want to know why?

A: Maybe he couldn’t think of anything romantic that rhymed with “Love Shack.”

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