you can have mine. I'll even pay the shipping. Here I am, all excited to go to bed early (please ignore the fact that it's Friday, I'm tired!), I walk into my bedroom and start looking for my pajamas when, "oh my, what is that on the towel on my bed?" (I put one down at the foot for the cat to sleep on). "Oh joy, vomit" But hey, at least it's on the towel. But what is that NOT on the towel. What is that next to the towel? Poop. POOP!!!!
So, anybody want a cat? Only thing I can guarantee is that she won't like you.
blooming outside my garage. Can you say unseasonably warm?
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夕日ときたら、お月さんだー
白山が赤いのは、反対側の地平線に沈んだ太陽さんの残照&WBを蛍光灯で撮ったからです。
これは都市の夜景にも使える技。
この日は福井市側の空がまさにトワイライト、マジックアワーでしたが、華麗に無視しました(笑)
この太陽の残す光がどうしても欲しかったんじゃ~・・・。
あと数年かける事になるなぁ・・・どうも・・・。
ネットで日没時間・方角&月の出時間・方角がわかるようになっただけでも、すごく便利な世の中です。
うーん、それと雁w
これは無理な話だとわかっていますが(^^;)・・・先日のは間違いです~。
昔の(京都の)人は、雁は越の国に帰るものだと思っていて、特にそれにあわせて白山が詠まれた。
なので「月と雁と白山」は、春に撮らないといけないのね~・・・('A`)
昔の人の美意識というかそういうのを題材に撮ろうと思うのは、一種のゲームで結構面白いです。
はやらんかな。
※なんか色々撮ったけど、これで終わりになりそう(´・ω・`)
The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
by Edgar Allan Poe
The happiest day - the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been -
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day - the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see - have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel - have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt - that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd - fell
An essence - powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
Learn More:
http://gratuitousartproductions.com/the-blog/
This wonderful little book is translated from the French. I tells the story of people's secret lives. Paloma, a precocious twelve-year-old and Madame Michel, the concierge of the apartment building where she lives, live secret lives of intelligence and wit surrounded by lesser mortals. They are exposed by Monsieur Ozu, and new inhabitant of the building and an extremely perceptive man. The story is charming and witty, the sort of character exposition that requires very little in the way of plot to advance the story. I've only half finished, so there's still a sense of discovery for me. Great reading.
Because I tweeted yesterday. And not just my horoscope.
Argh, day three and I already missed a day. In my defense, I was sad. My mom had been visiting for three weeks and she left yesterday. Saying goodbye was hard, but mostly okay, work was fine, going home sucked. Empty apartment. So, I drowned my sorrows in my last diet dr. pepper and over-buttered popcorn and birthday cake. No, there isn't any left. I read crappy, crappy novels and watched tv and then I went to bed. Oh, I sorted out a Scholastic order in there, too. And blogging didn't even cross my mind.
