a.k.a. Husband #2

This may be the most important guide I will ever read.
Oh, my how he makes me swoon.

Johnny's Essentials

Lists, lists and more lists. Keep them coming you say? Your wish is my command.

Here is a list from Mr. Johnny Depp of his "essentials". I read it in Entertainment Weekly awhile back and I thought it was interesting enough to share. I mean, yes, I'll acknowledge he is a babe and a half but that is not at all why I am posting it. Not at all, I promise. I am a married woman after all. I just liked the list.

pink moon

Tonight is the Pink Moon, folks. And although it might be trite, I couldn't resist posting such a great song.

From the Farmer's Almanac:

This name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month’s celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the shad swam upstream to spawn.

10 to 12 Perfect Moments

I loved this editorial on life's 10 to 12 moments of bliss and I also enjoyed reading Abbey's own reaction and her list. It certainly got me thinking about my own moments but to be honest, as much as I love making a list I feel kind of overwhelmed by this one. So I am gonna have to think about it for awhile before I can tackle it. In the meantime I wanted to share the lists so that you can start collecting your own personal moments of bliss...

Sister Corita Kent

A subversive and rebellious...nun? Who knew such things existed? Sister Corita Kent was all sorts of radness and I wish there were more like her.

Via V Magazine

song

Song by Ezra Pound

Love thou thy dream
All base love scorning,
Love thou the wind
And here take warning
That dreams alone can truly be,
For 'tis in dream I come to thee.

a girl

A Girl by Ezra Pound

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.

the seafarer

The Seafarer by Ezra Pound
May I for my own self song's truth reckon,
Journey's jargon, how I in harsh days
Hardship endured oft.
Bitter breast-cares have I abided,
Known on my keel many a care's hold,
And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent
Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship's head
While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted,
My feet were by frost benumbed.
Chill its chains are; chafing sighs
Hew my heart round and hunger begot
Mere-weary mood. Lest man know not
That he on dry land loveliest liveth,
List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea,
Weathered the winter, wretched outcast
Deprived of my kinsmen;
Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew,
There I heard naught save the harsh sea
And ice-cold wave, at whiles the swan cries,
Did for my games the gannet's clamour,
Sea-fowls, loudness was for me laughter,
The mews' singing all my mead-drink.
Storms, on the stone-cliffs beaten, fell on the stern
In icy feathers; full oft the eagle screamed
With spray on his pinion.
Not any protector
May make merry man faring needy.
This he little believes, who aye in winsome life
Abides 'mid burghers some heavy business,
Wealthy and wine-flushed, how I weary oft
Must bide above brine.
Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north,
Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then
Corn of the coldest. Nathless there knocketh now
The heart's thought that I on high streams
The salt-wavy tumult traverse alone.
Moaneth alway my mind's lust
That I fare forth, that I afar hence
Seek out a foreign fastness.
For this there's no mood-lofty man over earth's midst,
Not though he be given his good, but will have in his youth greed;
Nor his deed to the daring, nor his king to the faithful
But shall have his sorrow for sea-fare
Whatever his lord will.
He hath not heart for harping, nor in ring-having
Nor winsomeness to wife, nor world's delight
Nor any whit else save the wave's slash,
Yet longing comes upon him to fare forth on the water.
Bosque taketh blossom, cometh beauty of berries,
Fields to fairness, land fares brisker,
All this admonisheth man eager of mood,
The heart turns to travel so that he then thinks
On flood-ways to be far departing.
Cuckoo calleth with gloomy crying,
He singeth summerward, bodeth sorrow,
The bitter heart's blood. Burgher knows not --
He the prosperous man -- what some perform
Where wandering them widest draweth.
So that but now my heart burst from my breast-lock,
My mood 'mid the mere-flood,
Over the whale's acre, would wander wide.
On earth's shelter cometh oft to me,
Eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer,
Whets for the whale-path the heart irresistibly,
O'er tracks of ocean; seeing that anyhow
My lord deems to me this dead life
On loan and on land, I believe not
That any earth-weal eternal standeth
Save there be somewhat calamitous
That, ere a man's tide go, turn it to twain.
Disease or oldness or sword-hate
Beats out the breath from doom-gripped body.
And for this, every earl whatever, for those speaking after --
Laud of the living, boasteth some last word,
That he will work ere he pass onward,
Frame on the fair earth 'gainst foes his malice,
Daring ado, ...
So that all men shall honour him after
And his laud beyond them remain 'mid the English,
Aye, for ever, a lasting life's-blast,
Delight mid the doughty.
Days little durable,
And all arrogance of earthen riches,
There come now no kings nor Cæsars
Nor gold-giving lords like those gone.
Howe'er in mirth most magnified,
Whoe'er lived in life most lordliest,
Drear all this excellence, delights undurable!
Waneth the watch, but the world holdeth.
Tomb hideth trouble. The blade is layed low.
Earthly glory ageth and seareth.
No man at all going the earth's gait,
But age fares against him, his face paleth,
Grey-haired he groaneth, knows gone companions,
Lordly men are to earth o'ergiven,
Nor may he then the flesh-cover, whose life ceaseth,
Nor eat the sweet nor feel the sorry,
Nor stir hand nor think in mid heart,
And though he strew the grave with gold,
His born brothers, their buried bodies
Be an unlikely treasure hoard.

report: citizens take action in battle for san juan capistrano

Lot's of fast food stories popping up. This one regarding a town very close to where I grew up. It seems San Juan Capistrano has decided to not allow popular In-N-Out Burger to add another location to an already fast food-laden Del Obispo. SJC citizens complained that yet another fast food restaurant would turn the street into "Cholesterol Row." I am happy to see citizens take action on an issue that really does support their best interest.

But seriously, good job San Juan Capistrano.

Somewhat jokingly, stay classy San Juan Capistrano. Just like all those people that attend the annual Mooning of Amtrak or like the classy ladies that attend the Swallows Day Parade dressed as slutty cowgirls (no link or picture due to the fact that this IS a classy blog despite what you may have heard).

Cookies and Cupcakes, Oh My!

My head just about exploded when I saw this website via Cup of Jo this morning. I have been on a serious cookie baking streak lately with no plans on slowing down (I plan to make a bunch tomorrow since we have friends coming over for dinner!) but I think I need to get going on some cupcakes too. I just might have to make it my mission to try every single one of these recipes.

Note: Still working on this problem with loading images. Sorry for the boringest looking posts in the history of blogs.

Note to CLK: You take care of the baking, I'll take care of the images. I expect pastries on Sunday.