A Late Walk
by Robert Frost
When I got up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth,
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
I'm in a poetic sort of mood today, which reminded me of my most recent trip to New England and a beautiful cemetary in Bennington, Vermont. I knew Robert Frost was buried there, so I begged The Husband to pull over and all three of us piled out of our rented SUV. The October air was perfect -- crisp, not too cold, quiet, sunny. Harper was bundled in her hoodie. There was a gorgeous white church built in 1700-something-or-other, and it was surrounded by gravestones of Revolutionary War soldiers. But perhaps the most breathtaking part of the scene was the bright yellow falling leaves that seemed to be everywhere -- coating the pathways and landing softly on tombstones. Mesmerized by the beauty of the place, I couldn't stop snapping pictures. We slowly made our way through the graves, following arrows that said "Frost grave." And suddenly there it was, and I was practically alone with a poet that filled many of my days as a pupil and, later, as an English teacher. By the time we arrived at Frost's grave, I wanted to thank him for leading me to that place, a beautiful, historic cemetary on a hillside in rural Vermont. I never thanked him properly, so instead, I'll leave it with one of my favorite Frost poems and a hope that one day I'll return.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Dear Colin Firth,
Why are you so freakin' awesome? Seriously, I love you. And not in a kissy-kissy type way (although you are quite dashing) but in a you're-the-best-actor-to-ever-star-in-myriad-period-pieces way. Yep, I saw The King's Speech recently, and you've outdone yourself.
I will buy the following circa-1939 poster (coined by King George VI) in commemoration:
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Once upon a time, I was an editor at a shelter magazine. I spent my days perusing design blogs, interviewing designers, choosing rooms shots, and writing about demask wallpaper, mid-century furniture, and other interior trends. Alas, the magazine did not make it, like so many other home and garden magazines (RIP Blueprint, Domino, and Cottage Living). While I've mourned the death of several shelter magazines during the last few years, I'm still able to peruse the design blogs, thank goodness.
Recently, I came across a new shelter magazine that's very much alive and kicking, Covet Garden. Clever name, eh? It's dedicated to inspiring rooms and interiors and spends less time ooo-ing and ah-ing over products (though it does include some).
I love magazines with artful covers, and Covet Garden does it well. Here's a link to past covers. The mag is short (less than 30 pages), but what it lacks in size it makes up for in style. It's simply beautiful to look through. I'm feeling inspired already...