Went to see Rachel Getting Married at the Red River Theatres last night – and I would HIGHLY recommend it. Here’s a link to a bunch of reviews … nearly all just as positive as the one I have in my head (and will add to the sidebar sometime today). 😉
From ChristopherCornblog, here’s a Civics Quiz found on the Civics Literacy Report site. It was a challenge. Take it a post your results in the Comments if you dare! (I’ll share mine, too … but someone else has to go first!)
We’re going to be closely following the NikeCross Nationals – Northeast Regional Cross Country Race this morning … and rooting madly for therunner who broke bread with us on Thursday. You go girl!!
Today is Bronson Alcott’s birthday (Amos Bronson Alcott to be precise). Along with Abraham Lincoln and Walt Whitman, he was a high school hero of mine. (In college I took a turn to the darker side … Plath, Sexton, etc. Even with antidotes like the Berrigan brothers and Thomas Merton, it took awhile to dig out after that!)
Last but not least – here’s a poem cribbed from this morning’s posting on The Writer’s Almanac. It captures a certain feel that November has, don’t you think? The greyness (or grayness). The feeling of portent. It all sounds so negative on its face – but I don’t find it so. Not at all.
Purgatory Is Nearer in November
by Josephine Jacobsen
November is beautiful as the word sounds, is gray, is bare,
Is compact of wind, of leaves blown and the thin, tall rain;
Brought back to our care are the dead in November,
and the air of these days is charged with their pain.
For these are not the free dead, not the remote, bright crowd
Of our picture-book, or our image of nebulous heaven:
These are caught, tangled in a web comfortless as a shroud-
These have not familiar place, nor flight, nor oblivion, even.
They have not escaped yet-they are close in the clouds massing together;
At the cold first drop you will stare on the dark ground and remember.
They are the accent of autumn, they are the source of the tone of this weather.
The heart is reached by the waiting dead, in their month, in November.