Eliza Daley ~ Wordcraft & Musing on Home & Hope
An informal letter of resignation which nobody will ever read. And a general polemical complaint which nobody will ever care about. I’m not a miracle worker. And they want a miracle. No. It’s worse than that. They need, we need, a miracle. We need a spontaneous and very specific genetic mutation. Now. Yesterday. Twenty years… Continue reading Corn Futures
Nine thousand years. Maybe ten. Maybe fifteen. Five hundred generations. Of humans that is. Nine thousand generations of this. Nine thousand years of fields green with three sisters. The gold of tassels, rust of pods, sun orange and berry red of squash. I feel the breath of my ancestors in these gardens, stirring leaves and… Continue reading 9000 Years (Winifred Mumbles)
I began reading Mark Bittman’s Animal, Vegetable, Junk this week. This might be another formative book. It is trending in that direction. Bittman is tackling our recently soured relationship to food. I can say from experience that this is a daunting writing project, one that I approach obliquely in most of my writing. So I… Continue reading The Wednesday Word: 11 August 2021
I spent today marinating my hands in capsaicin. I roasted, chopped and froze twenty pounds of Big Jim chiles. It took about seven hours in my rather small oven. For over an hour afterwards, my hands were searing. I don’t think my skin would have felt any worse if it was actually on fire. But… Continue reading The Wednesday Word: 4 August 2021
People have always climbed mountains to gain wisdom. Perhaps it is the embodied metaphor of height, perhaps the clear, thin air. Maybe it is merely the belief that there is meaning in the arduous task itself. But I think it might also be true that mountains offer most people their only escape from others. Mountains… Continue reading The Wednesday Word: 28 July 2021
I am engaged in building a future for my kids out of this mess of a present, largely created by my parents' generation. One of the most wearing aspects of this project is not giving in to despair. Merely seeing what might be good — or even survivable — is difficult. So from time to… Continue reading Lughnasadh 2041
This painting is called Elizabeth the Corn Maiden. Of course, I had to buy it. Today is Flitch Day in England. As in “side of bacon”. I had no idea bacon had its own day. Seems appropriate that it should fall in the middle of the Dog Days. (No, I’m not fond of bacon. Nor… Continue reading Beyond Summer
(Winifred Mumbles) They say there were one million pates under that sunset once upon a time. I imagine only once. Because I can’t imagine that impossible clot of humans happening twice. They littered the valley with their aspirations. Plastic. Fading. Tired even in youth. I can see the echoes under the rainbow sky. Foundations poured… Continue reading Ozymandias and the Dreamers
The worst holiday of the year approaches. This is the dog's assessment. I generally concur, only I'm not too into American Thanksgiving either. For sort of similar reasons. I just don't believe in this country's narratives. No, it's worse than that. I don't approve of this country's narratives. I don't like these foundational stories and… Continue reading The Wednesday Word: 30 June 2021
I spent a bit of time with Paul Bunyan for yesterday’s post and realized something: there are quite a large number of appallingly stupid heroes and male deities in EuroWestern traditions. This probably reflects our ideals in ways that maybe we need to analyze. But for now I have a story for you. Imagine if… Continue reading Wise Choice
By My Solitary Hearth 