Monday, April 20, 2009
So, Is April the Cruelest Month?
The vote was 3 to 1: April is not the cruelest month! Those in favor of April commented on its being the time "when everything seems so vigorous" and its actually being the "beginning of the year" Another did concede that April "could be crazy," with its changeable weather, but insisted that it does have very nice, warm days as well. This author loves the tulips of April, and the way they line up to bring cheer to her neighborhood; the cherry blossoms in DC; and the Easter celebrations. The third proponent of April considers it the second month of the year, since in her country the year starts after the events of Carnival. She pointed out that months have names: the bride month, the Christmas month, the vacation month, the "apart month" when many relationships end. That last one is scary! The lone dissenter to April's charm sadly described it as the month "without the glory of May" with its explosion of colors and life. Of course, he was writing on a very rainy day, when he would have preferred staying home and sipping coffee in his kitchen.
Instead of Poetry, Some Spring Prose
Editorial | The Rural Life
Perfectly Still
o
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By VERLYN KLINKENBORG
Published: April 18, 2009
The sun went down half an hour ago, and there is a nearly perfect stillness in the evening. I stand outside and wonder how such a night is possible, how — in the great cycle of air masses thrusting and obtruding their way across the planet, boiling up from the oceans and scattering over the plains — this small-valley quiet comes to be.
The grass in the field is as thick as a woodchuck’s fur and just now giving up its green to darkness, which is settling like a cold dew. If there were leaves on the trees, they would show where the wind lies, turning slightly in the way I might quote a poet to describe. Instead, there are stiff blossoms, the buds of a spring that is about to happen. Every twig seems to end in a red knot. In the uplands, people are still dragging winter to the roadside — tangled hedgerows of ice-broken limbs. I got a glimpse today of the last snow slowly rotting on a ski slope. Winter has a stillness, but it’s nothing like the stillness of a spring evening, when it feels as though every living thing has stopped quivering with expectation just for the moment.
I passed a clump of deer on the roadside the other afternoon, and they looked as though they had been carved out of decaying wood. It was a trick of the light. A much more solid deer is walking along the high ridge-line that borders this property. It pauses and looks down over this house, or perhaps it’s looking to the sound of the river, which is nearly as quiet now as it will be at midsummer. The sound of the river takes over for the sound of the missing wind, which has been rattling the windows for the past few months.
I know what grows in the warmth and the expanding light of spring. But I wonder tonight what grows in this stillness. Perhaps it’s only the mosquitoes hunting for the first time this year, or the Diptera that will be rising and falling along the river’s edge tomorrow morning. But I think something human grows in the stillness of a night like this — fulfillment, if you like, or an untroubled hope. Soon the stars, and a late-rising moon, will add what they can to the calm outside.
Perfectly Still
o
Article Tools Sponsored By
By VERLYN KLINKENBORG
Published: April 18, 2009
The sun went down half an hour ago, and there is a nearly perfect stillness in the evening. I stand outside and wonder how such a night is possible, how — in the great cycle of air masses thrusting and obtruding their way across the planet, boiling up from the oceans and scattering over the plains — this small-valley quiet comes to be.
The grass in the field is as thick as a woodchuck’s fur and just now giving up its green to darkness, which is settling like a cold dew. If there were leaves on the trees, they would show where the wind lies, turning slightly in the way I might quote a poet to describe. Instead, there are stiff blossoms, the buds of a spring that is about to happen. Every twig seems to end in a red knot. In the uplands, people are still dragging winter to the roadside — tangled hedgerows of ice-broken limbs. I got a glimpse today of the last snow slowly rotting on a ski slope. Winter has a stillness, but it’s nothing like the stillness of a spring evening, when it feels as though every living thing has stopped quivering with expectation just for the moment.
I passed a clump of deer on the roadside the other afternoon, and they looked as though they had been carved out of decaying wood. It was a trick of the light. A much more solid deer is walking along the high ridge-line that borders this property. It pauses and looks down over this house, or perhaps it’s looking to the sound of the river, which is nearly as quiet now as it will be at midsummer. The sound of the river takes over for the sound of the missing wind, which has been rattling the windows for the past few months.
I know what grows in the warmth and the expanding light of spring. But I wonder tonight what grows in this stillness. Perhaps it’s only the mosquitoes hunting for the first time this year, or the Diptera that will be rising and falling along the river’s edge tomorrow morning. But I think something human grows in the stillness of a night like this — fulfillment, if you like, or an untroubled hope. Soon the stars, and a late-rising moon, will add what they can to the calm outside.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Speaking of American Culture
In class on Tuesday, we had an interesting discussion of consumerism and cleanliness as facets of American culture. Now you can take a look at marriage!
Spotlight:
Q&A: Can we be married, but independent?
Andrew Cherlin, a professor of sociology at Johns Hopkins, says in his new book, “The Marriage-Go-Round,” that Americans marry more, have more live-in partners and divorce more frequently than any other country. USA Today interviewed him about these findings:
http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2009-04-14-marriage-cherlin-QnA_N.htm
Spotlight:
Q&A: Can we be married, but independent?
Andrew Cherlin, a professor of sociology at Johns Hopkins, says in his new book, “The Marriage-Go-Round,” that Americans marry more, have more live-in partners and divorce more frequently than any other country. USA Today interviewed him about these findings:
http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2009-04-14-marriage-cherlin-QnA_N.htm
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Grammar Spot
The Comma Manifesto - Eats, Shoots & Leaves
"A panda goes into a café, orders a sandwich, eats it, takes out a revolver, fires it into the air, and goes out. When the waiter calls to ask what is going on, the panda plunks a badly punctuated wildlife manual onto the table and growls: "Look me up." ....
...The waiter finds the entry: "PANDA. Large, black-and-white, bear-like mammal native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.""
Far from being a text on Pandas, Eats, Shoots & Leaves is a roaming, raving and sometimes ranting manifesto of comma violations across the English language - mostly from those who should know better. The author, Lynne Truss, also takes aim at the flagrant, inconsistent (and usually public) mis-use of apostrophes. She welcomes all of us to the Apostrophe Protection Society, a real organization that (along with Truss) is horrified by commercial signs that announce "Antique's" or "Apple's".
One of my personal favorites is the difference between - "Let's eat, mother" and "Let's eat mother".
It's all in the comma....
Or consider the classic romantic note below:
Dear John:
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we're apart. I can be forever happy--will you let me be yours?
Jane
As opposed to -
Dear John:
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men, I yearn. For you, I have no feelings whatsoever. When we're apart, I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Jane
Yes, it is all in those pesky little punctuation marks.
The current edition of Eats, Shoots & Leaves also includes an Emergency Punctuation Repair kit - stickers of commas and apostrophes to place over signs you might see. As Lynne Truss says - "Sticklers Unite!" It's available from Gotham Books (a division of Penguin Group).
For examples of mangled English not necessarily related to punctuation, check out http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-497544/Chinglish-Hilarious-examples-signs-lost-translation.html or http://fun-in-language.blogspot.com/2007/11/hilarious-chinglish-signs.html
"A panda goes into a café, orders a sandwich, eats it, takes out a revolver, fires it into the air, and goes out. When the waiter calls to ask what is going on, the panda plunks a badly punctuated wildlife manual onto the table and growls: "Look me up." ....
...The waiter finds the entry: "PANDA. Large, black-and-white, bear-like mammal native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.""
Far from being a text on Pandas, Eats, Shoots & Leaves is a roaming, raving and sometimes ranting manifesto of comma violations across the English language - mostly from those who should know better. The author, Lynne Truss, also takes aim at the flagrant, inconsistent (and usually public) mis-use of apostrophes. She welcomes all of us to the Apostrophe Protection Society, a real organization that (along with Truss) is horrified by commercial signs that announce "Antique's" or "Apple's".
One of my personal favorites is the difference between - "Let's eat, mother" and "Let's eat mother".
It's all in the comma....
Or consider the classic romantic note below:
Dear John:
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we're apart. I can be forever happy--will you let me be yours?
Jane
As opposed to -
Dear John:
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men, I yearn. For you, I have no feelings whatsoever. When we're apart, I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Jane
Yes, it is all in those pesky little punctuation marks.
The current edition of Eats, Shoots & Leaves also includes an Emergency Punctuation Repair kit - stickers of commas and apostrophes to place over signs you might see. As Lynne Truss says - "Sticklers Unite!" It's available from Gotham Books (a division of Penguin Group).
For examples of mangled English not necessarily related to punctuation, check out http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-497544/Chinglish-Hilarious-examples-signs-lost-translation.html or http://fun-in-language.blogspot.com/2007/11/hilarious-chinglish-signs.html
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
More Free Writing Snippets!
in Just" !
I like the spring season, too. Flowers are blooming. I also remember that, when I was small, in the beginning of spring, my grandmom took us children to woods to dig out bamboo shoots. We left home in the morning and [came] back home in the evening with full baskets of bamboo shoots. We didn't only dig bamboo shooots; my grandmom also taught us how to recognize mushrooms and wild vegetables. We did have a wonderful time in the spring.
The meaning of the poem is all about atmosphere. One can not understand a poem without some kind of imagination. When we read it, we read it aloud and slowly at the same time. We try to see before our eyes the scenery the author was trying to describe, and most of all the feeling and the mental stage he is [on] when he was composing it.
It's amazing how changed those plaqns look. Their branches are now fat, full, and alive mamas! . . .
When spring is here, everything be comes alive again and every thing moves fast and happily. The children, . . . the wind, the noise, the balloonman, all jump, tilt, and make happy sounds.
All screaming and yelling hard, the spring is here and is here.
It is lush green and every thing
and every one wants to move and jump and have spring energy. It was . . . the lush green and the smell of the spring.
I like the spring season, too. Flowers are blooming. I also remember that, when I was small, in the beginning of spring, my grandmom took us children to woods to dig out bamboo shoots. We left home in the morning and [came] back home in the evening with full baskets of bamboo shoots. We didn't only dig bamboo shooots; my grandmom also taught us how to recognize mushrooms and wild vegetables. We did have a wonderful time in the spring.
The meaning of the poem is all about atmosphere. One can not understand a poem without some kind of imagination. When we read it, we read it aloud and slowly at the same time. We try to see before our eyes the scenery the author was trying to describe, and most of all the feeling and the mental stage he is [on] when he was composing it.
It's amazing how changed those plaqns look. Their branches are now fat, full, and alive mamas! . . .
When spring is here, everything be comes alive again and every thing moves fast and happily. The children, . . . the wind, the noise, the balloonman, all jump, tilt, and make happy sounds.
All screaming and yelling hard, the spring is here and is here.
It is lush green and every thing
and every one wants to move and jump and have spring energy. It was . . . the lush green and the smell of the spring.
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