tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10109604994673871972024-03-14T00:42:52.774-07:00Words in the WindA blog devoted to personal observations on books, ephemera, cultural history, art, literature, nature, daily pursuits and events - in short, a random sampling of thoughts from a rambling mind with lively interests.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-40459456085889862012013-07-20T09:37:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:38:32.566-07:00Writing With Scissors: American Scrapbooks from the Civil War to the Harlem Renaissance, by Ellen Gruber Garvey<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In my previous blog I mentioned a brief history of
scrapbooks, and several books on the </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjMoPVEjrx1YWly10yPzIUlaK7MwEA6XUzgObyhvUGsTe4gZOKT5C18Hp8YVIbeALIGbni93ngMNSCPgzE-CfidVb-iACXucQtdBq4HchqxnZg17utHhl1yLk-dy2g3YG1mU-R4TX53M/s1600/writing+with+scissors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjMoPVEjrx1YWly10yPzIUlaK7MwEA6XUzgObyhvUGsTe4gZOKT5C18Hp8YVIbeALIGbni93ngMNSCPgzE-CfidVb-iACXucQtdBq4HchqxnZg17utHhl1yLk-dy2g3YG1mU-R4TX53M/s200/writing+with+scissors.jpg" width="132" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">subject. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Writing With Scissors</i> is probably the most scholarly of these,
focusing as it does on some of the most historically significant albums and
collections. </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></o:p><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Hooked on the subject by the discovery of a farm woman’s
scrapbook of clipped articles dedicated to the environment of the home that she
discovered in a used book store, Garvey went on to explore the world of
scrapbooks housed in libraries, archives, and historical societies. Scrapbooks
are often extremely personal, miniature archives of daily life not meant for
public consumption. “Every scrapbook is its own world,” she writes, “compelling
and impossibly frustrating.” She quotes from James Tate’s poem “Horseshoe” to
describe the experience of puzzling over these volumes,</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I can’t
read the small print in the scrapbook:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>does this
say, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Relinquishing all bats, feeling
faint</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>on the balcony?</i> There is so much
to be corrected here,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>so many
scribbles and grumbles, blind premonitions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How does
one interpret, on this late branch, the unexpected?</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></o:p><a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Not only is some of the written material in a scrapbook
difficult to decipher, so too is the intent, substance, history, and sometimes
the identity of the record-keeper. These old albums do not much resemble the
attempted artistry of today’s modern memorabilia scrapbooks. They were often
kept in old ledgers, printed books of minimal interest (agricultural reports,
books of sermons, catalogs) or home-made constructions, or, as the early fad
progressed, in manufactured “scrap albums” with highly decorated covers, pages
designated for records of baby development, school progress, etc. (Often the
designations were ignored for more personal record-keeping.) </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It is difficult to understand today just what the introduction
of inexpensive color reproduction meant to our Victorian ancestors. There was
an explosion of printing when color lithography produced prints, book
illustrations, trade cards, calling cards, postcards, greeting cards, and other
brightly-colored graphics. Until then, color work was done primarily by hand,
painted in watercolor by professional artisans and therefore expensive. Needless
to say, there was a frenzy of scrapbook-keeping of these items, sometimes
represented by real artistry in the arrangement of colorful ephemera. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">There was a similar response when newspapers became
plentiful and inexpensive in the mid-19<sup>th</sup> century. Historically
important records were pasted into scrapbooks, material that might not
otherwise have survived the prejudices and politics of its day. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Scrapbooks kept during the Civil War represent both sides
of the political issues and battles. Those kept by Abolitionists describe many
of the conflicts and struggles on a personal level. Not only factual clippings,
but letters, photographs, poems, short stories, engravings, and other
memorabilia filled these volumes. Side by side, these records present a much
fuller picture of this painful era in American History.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Garvey examines the histories preserved in African
American Scrapbooks from the mid-1800s into the early 1900s. She notes that
these scrapbooks create an alternative to the historical records kept by white
society that might otherwise have been neglected and lost. These scrapbooks,
she says, witness the participation and contributions of African-Americans in
the development of the United States; present a record of race pride with
printed articles about struggles and achievements of black role models; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>compile the evidence of oppression and
mistreatment of African-Americans, often using the bigoted and biased white
press as a “hostile witness” against itself; and finally, the scrapbooks helped
define and support black communities by keeping their history, since they were
often blocked from access to libraries and newspaper files. </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">These were not piddly incidental volumes. A Philadelphia
janitor compiled over 100 huge pasted tomes starting in the 1850s. William H.
Dorsey made nearly 400 scrapbooks between the 1870s and 1903, and created a
museum in his home that also included books, prints, and other artwork that
depicted black history. And there were other significant collections. </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Women’s activism in the early 20<sup>th</sup> century was
another area that received biased press coverage, if any. Women who spoke and
wrote publically about sensitive reforms such as Suffrage were often ridiculed,
described as unwomanly, and otherwise derided. They were forced to develop
public personalities that were more acceptably “feminine,” through means such
as knitting in public when attending lectures and events .</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Garvey addresses each of these subjects in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Writing With Scissors</i> in depth, also
analyzing the importance of the records to future historians. Although
scholarly in format and subject, her enthusiasm creates a lively and enjoyable
text that is both informative and satisfying. </span></div>
</div>
EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-16686884949676263532013-06-29T12:44:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:40:55.980-07:00Scrapbooks: Intimate Records of Everyday Life, and More<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>When I was in school (long, long ago) we were sometimes
assigned a scrapbook project. I can remember doing one on Venezuela that
included an essay on Simon Bolivar, agriculture, industry, history, maps, etc.
with any illustrations I could find. (Wretched old textbooks and National
Geographics from the thrift shops often helped with such projects.) Another was
on Abraham Lincoln (I can still feel the coarseness of the construction paper –
brown – that comprised the pages of that album. It was old paper, and had a
distinctive dusty odor, too.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJsTzqQylHnRCArVjqhdts2GuhS4Z4lySJs5sROeMGf6R2UW7enQVGlCxDtk4nORDBE0CiT4dznrqpcvUllk8B3QJ6OyGKZQTgaTBVehNAnj3SIdnxRvXTQNy9y97B33a5hKdiYpcGU8/s927/scrapbook+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJsTzqQylHnRCArVjqhdts2GuhS4Z4lySJs5sROeMGf6R2UW7enQVGlCxDtk4nORDBE0CiT4dznrqpcvUllk8B3QJ6OyGKZQTgaTBVehNAnj3SIdnxRvXTQNy9y97B33a5hKdiYpcGU8/s200/scrapbook+cover.jpg" width="151" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">
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Many young friends kept scrapbooks of movie stars,
horses, cats, animals in general, the Dionne Quintuplets, Shirley Temple,
flowers, and other subjects. Boys tended toward subjects such as aviation,
radio, sports, heroes (Charles Lindberg, boxing champs) cars, comic strips, and
other “manly” matters. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think my first unprompted
effort was on science, but then, I was always a weird child. <o:p> </o:p></div>
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</span></div>
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Adults collected recipes, albums of family travels with
photos and souvenir ephemera, records of military service or occupations. Mothers
kept scrapbooks on their children’s progress through childhood. College
students kept a record of the years in school, with photos, programs for plays
and dances and sporting events; clippings, grades, class schedules, lectures,
and other souvenirs. I once acquired a pre-WWI album compiled by a student at a
vocational college in our state who was studying pharmacy. After much research
and a visit to the pharmacy school archivist, we determined that the album
maker was in the first graduating class of the pharmacy school and became the
first instructor under the dean. A lot more was discovered about his career,
including the fact that I had no doubt dealt with him numerous times in a local
pharmacy years earlier. Since the school was celebrating its centenary, the
album found a home in its archives.<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
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</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrq_1AQqR6avUiHo8vDh9SGIut11D2mNIFZJHyXKPxLaIp1aL9wShGmUo9_8zdSr9Wvca6EfsPOoZ_cPTnFrMxfoUyrVoBKFMNuJJsZnBHXFcOdbt2TghP4t_2qoIItK7PqVxB8xHeU0/s924/scrapbook1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrq_1AQqR6avUiHo8vDh9SGIut11D2mNIFZJHyXKPxLaIp1aL9wShGmUo9_8zdSr9Wvca6EfsPOoZ_cPTnFrMxfoUyrVoBKFMNuJJsZnBHXFcOdbt2TghP4t_2qoIItK7PqVxB8xHeU0/s320/scrapbook1.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From a scrapbook kept by a <br />
WW II Merchant Marine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>Today’s “scrapbook craze” is nothing new – just, in many
ways, better – with more archival materials, efforts to render pages artistically,
stickers and borders and rubber stamps and other enhancements easily obtained.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>Curious about the history of scrapbooks and their place
in recording our history, and especially about the regard in which they might
be held by institutional archives, I have just read three books about the
subject. Each focuses on a different aspect of the scrapbook, but all present a
fairly consistent history of the scrapbook. Salient points include:<o:p> </o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>During the Renaissance, when paper and printing became
more readily available, wealthy patrons of the arts kept albums of prints,
portraits, and other refined material. </div>
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</div>
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In the late 1700s, James Granger published a history of
England that include blank pages for adding illustrations, letters, documents,
or other related material. It became a fad in the 1800s to add such ephemera to
other printed books, a process that is now described as “extra-illustrating” or
“Grangerizing.” </div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Commonplace Books” had more serious intent as a form of
record-keeping in the 17<sup>th</sup> to 19<sup>th</sup> centuries. These were
journals in which people could copy out quotations or documents that they
wanted to preserve, philosophical or political ponderings, newspaper or
magazine clippings, etc. Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and other
significant figures employed these regularly. (Remember that there was no
Internet, no copy machines, no other way to preserve some of this material.)
Commonplace books were much like journals or diaries, with no particular
segregation of subject or chronological order. They were referred to often as a
source of subjects for speeches, debate, history, etc. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg4m3GTwFx2qU7EvZPIBE4AHgyakQAQdfMZdVmJbtGZBPsoiQsFQvkAKdQ_liMPZDVvPLdjHe5rkHDEnujSINHTVJ4ZbnVkYy0nRvl736GktNvBHmQxSI_Q_2GAIryhdisf06LeKg3sU/s1557/scrapbook2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg4m3GTwFx2qU7EvZPIBE4AHgyakQAQdfMZdVmJbtGZBPsoiQsFQvkAKdQ_liMPZDVvPLdjHe5rkHDEnujSINHTVJ4ZbnVkYy0nRvl736GktNvBHmQxSI_Q_2GAIryhdisf06LeKg3sU/s200/scrapbook2.jpg" width="146" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More from the Merchant<br />
Marine's scrapbook</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
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The Victorians perfected the art of the parlor album,
books in which they could keep memorabilia, in which guests could add passages
or poems or drawings or even musical scores or recipes. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>When newspaper printing became inexpensive and papers and
magazines were more readily available to the public, an early form of “scrapbook
craze” swept the country. Whole families sat down together to clip and paste
into their individual scrapbooks. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span>The paste was a messy proposition, being homemade and
hard to use. No less a figure than Mark Twain offered a solution: scrapbooks
with pre-pasted strips to moisten. This “Mark Twain’s Scrapbook” appeared in
many formats and editions, and it has been said that it was his best-selling
book. Of course, he also used scrapbooks to keep track of his many appearances
in periodical print (stories, poems, essays, articles, illustrations, etc. were
widely traded between several thousand publications). And of course there were
announcements and reviews of his lectures and other activities. Clipping
bureaus sprang up to provide material to celebrities, organizations, and others
who wanted a record of any and all publications.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7R5enH5SrzSkX2uXAGGp8wzuCU7ykyPchhi9aey8ewdaDrnb55LbBZ_gB0AxpNcC3IBH39DuZhLKePZhAkRoaG0bsxTUx8Zlb_43R6nvqfDsGuqtf9ZIgyT8ITEIDZocReHQRyfix_-M/s927/scrapbook3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7R5enH5SrzSkX2uXAGGp8wzuCU7ykyPchhi9aey8ewdaDrnb55LbBZ_gB0AxpNcC3IBH39DuZhLKePZhAkRoaG0bsxTUx8Zlb_43R6nvqfDsGuqtf9ZIgyT8ITEIDZocReHQRyfix_-M/s320/scrapbook3.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Page from the album of a <br />
high-school girl active in music.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span>Some scrapbooks contain items such as hair clippings,
menus, souvenir programs or things like spoons or cocktail picks, napkins,
charms and other jewelry, patches, matchbook covers, tokens, pressed flowers
and corsages, handkerchiefs, fabric swatches, ribbons, labels, and just about
anything else moderately flat enough to keep between pages. Needless to say the
materials represented also range widely. Archiving the albums can be a real
headache, according to some of the institutional specialists I have discussed
this with. Sometimes the scrapbooks are taken apart, the pages inventoried and
indexed, and stored separately. Sometimes the book is kept intact in a temperature
and humidity-controlled environment (often in an archival box) and the pages
indexed in the records. Not all scrapbooks are worthy of archiving, but some
constitute the best record kept of social and political movements, etc. I’ll
discuss all that in another blog segment, along with the afore-mentioned three
books on the subject. <br />
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<br /></div>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-46005975728715380272013-04-21T14:02:00.001-07:002013-07-20T09:42:15.341-07:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">About the Birds: Poetry Month
and Earth Day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Since I seem
to be derelict (or busy) regarding this blog, and considering that April is
National Poetry Month here in the USA, perhaps it is time to share a few of my
poems. And since it is also Earth Day, poems about wild birds seems
appropriate. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Please note
that these poems are all copyright in my name. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">My young
neighbor, years ago, was passionate about raptors and had permissions from
National authorities to hold and treat wild species. At any given time you
might find Golden Eagles, Bald Eagles, Red-tailed Hawks, and other birds of
prey in his aviaries. Cornell flew experts out to perform surgeries in extreme
cases. And sometimes he worked with local wildlife vets to rehabilitate some
wild birds. He once stopped by my place to show me a pygmy owl that had bumped
into a car windshield that he was asked to treat and was transporting to his
home up the hill. It recovered quickly, mostly from shock. The heron he tried
to save didn’t make it, but I watched while he made the attempt to force-feed
it. (He has since become a nationally recognized wild bird specialist with “Dr.”
in front of his name.)</span></div>
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</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKyLYb1_TYJ4HvzgQuiqEz8OV2GnCb2Zy1YI01XK6_5etS8Jj8MwVhl4Ucd-7HPsnITJvykpVZ9K5lDOPk9yEVn9mX_6OMRxwVDf4e5piuF92uKZmZe0A9PL5qjvQY4t85l0Bh0OaRnA/s1600/blue+heron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKyLYb1_TYJ4HvzgQuiqEz8OV2GnCb2Zy1YI01XK6_5etS8Jj8MwVhl4Ucd-7HPsnITJvykpVZ9K5lDOPk9yEVn9mX_6OMRxwVDf4e5piuF92uKZmZe0A9PL5qjvQY4t85l0Bh0OaRnA/s320/blue+heron.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Feeding the Heron </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
remember how my neighbor’s boy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">tried to save the blue heron -- <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">damaged, starving – entrusted</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">to
his care; how he trussed its wings</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">against
the bulky body, then forced</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">that
long sharp bill apart</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">to
dribble in warm brandy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">while
his dark and gentle hand</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">stroked
the slender throat </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">from
pharynx to crop. “You don’t</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">dare
move your eyes,” he said, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">then
told how the stiletto beak </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">would
strike in an instant</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">at
a moist eye’s flash</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 63pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">as
though it were a minnow under water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
<a name='more'></a></div>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Times New Roman;">
W</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="color: #741b47;">atching</span> a documentary on Bald Eagles, the first flight of a fledgling
captured my heart.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She Soars</span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>the
eaglet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>born</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>to
fly</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>has
never</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>flown
before</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>her
knotty</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>feet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>cling</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>to
the aerie</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>the
first </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>time</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
must</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>get
it </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 4;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>right</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a half-</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>mile
down</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>the
earth</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>is
bright</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>in
her </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>youthful
eye</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
lifts</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>her
wings<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>feels
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>insistent
wind </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>suck<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>seductive</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she
shifts</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>her
feet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>the
untried</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>wings</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>vibrate</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>hesitate</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>paper
kites<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>updrafts
surge</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
cups</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>the
wind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>presses
it </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>against
her body</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>feels</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>it
squirt</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>away</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
captures</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>air<span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>masters</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>flight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>that
suddenly</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>released
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>from
earth</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
soars</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> br</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">illiant</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>light
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>limns</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>her
head</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">her
back</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>strikes
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>fire
in her</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>golden
eye</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
soars</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>she
soars<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>oh
for</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>those
wings</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>those
wings</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>that
air</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: -.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span>that
light</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBYkmUAip-vFadrDD1FUlQ7qKMQtEENpA-HXfDkEVUkYtMF0yPq2rH2ZmuCxIoQhi99XhjoBBFqqbxgHwHp5PgXm_vF5wpMGhsJtBxQGWAwPdEmohQkXwm1SelcPzP5JcyZhpm26RwXU/s1600/blue+bald+eagle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBYkmUAip-vFadrDD1FUlQ7qKMQtEENpA-HXfDkEVUkYtMF0yPq2rH2ZmuCxIoQhi99XhjoBBFqqbxgHwHp5PgXm_vF5wpMGhsJtBxQGWAwPdEmohQkXwm1SelcPzP5JcyZhpm26RwXU/s320/blue+bald+eagle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A Few Words and a
Poem About Starlings</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Starlings are not native to North
America. They were introduced in 1890-91 by the American Acclimatization
Society (for questionable reasons). The chairman at the time, Eugene
Shieffelin, supposedly decided that all birds mentioned by Shakespeare should
be included. 100 starlings were released in Central Park, Manhattan. Since then
they have multiplied and spread across the country from coast to coast. Social
birds, they frequently roost in the tens of thousands, creating noise and
coating everything below with droppings. They also destroy the eggs or consume
the resources of native birds, contributing to the decline of native species. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Related to the Mynah birds of Asia,
they are terrific mimics and are even being studied in attempts to discover the
evolution of language. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">No matter how people feel about them,
few fail to respond with awe to a flocking phenomenon known as murmuration.
There are a number of videos on UTube showing these awesome group flights. One observer
claims that after watching dozens of these performances, he has yet to see a
collision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; tab-stops: center 3.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XH-groCeKbE&list=PLC9515F6BCD6347D1"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XH-groCeKbE&list=PLC9515F6BCD6347D1</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eakKfY5aHmY&list=PLC9515F6BCD6347D1"><span style="color: blue;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eakKfY5aHmY&list=PLC9515F6BCD6347D1</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJMtgE9FhRQ"><span style="color: blue;"></span></a><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJtgE9FhRQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJtgE9FhRQ</a></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJMtgE9FhRQ"></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Murmurations occur mostly in winter,
before pairing off begins. As mating season approaches, the beaks turn bright
yellow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: center 3.25in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "PMingLiU","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: PMingLiU; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">STARLING
PERSPECTIVES</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">Starlings
are mathematicians</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">of a
different dimension.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">They
accept no straight lines:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">all
things are approached obliquely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">What
appears from here </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">to be
a crust of bread </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">may
be, from a different angle,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">a
stone, a cat, an old shoe</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">filled
to its rim by a foot.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">You
can't take anything for granted</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">(if
you're a starling.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">the
gift of song, there is still need</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">to
experiment with whistles, beeps,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">the
cheeping of a chick,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">screech
of rusty door hinge,</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">a cat's
betrayed meow.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">Flight
is a matter of angles,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">of
reversed decisions</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">made
in attitudes of air.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">For
one bird to falter</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">in
this erratic rhythm</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">would
spell disaster for the flock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">Imagine
the collision:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">yellow-beaked
birds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;">falling for weeks like rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 2.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: PMingLiU;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-40639144417318988272012-10-20T17:59:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:44:31.827-07:00I Could Pee on This<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t shout at me: it’s the title of a book! More
specifically<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, I Could Pee on This and
Other Poems by Cats, </i>by Franceso Marciuliano. Make a note: you may want to
give copies to cat-loving friends as gifts! </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3i2npHC96qXkfab0pAxYy7FioSNLJmifxX4oqVsWCPMAfN6cmn_cfPLPXlIncyhhbhyphenhyphenuR05WoGcL6NY6BumlFOELnH5zrL-Q3eFux0lcE6-ANSBfC8eEaYegLVSjvkORjYRGQIKOYn4/s1600/i+could+pee+book.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3i2npHC96qXkfab0pAxYy7FioSNLJmifxX4oqVsWCPMAfN6cmn_cfPLPXlIncyhhbhyphenhyphenuR05WoGcL6NY6BumlFOELnH5zrL-Q3eFux0lcE6-ANSBfC8eEaYegLVSjvkORjYRGQIKOYn4/s200/i+could+pee+book.jpg.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While it’s not great literature, this little book is full
of charm, from Marciuliano’s humor to some great cat photos to the poems
themselves. Of the poems the author says in his introduction, “…by the time you
‘ve finished reading this poetry anthology, you’ll not only completely
understand everything your cat thinks and does but even applaud him for it.
Maybe give him a medal. Or throw him a parade in your hallway, making sure to
avoid staircases so all the tiny floats don’t tumble down. Or you can just sit
your cat down, look him straight in the eyes and say, “I get it. I really do
get it…..furry face.”</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You see, it’s all about catitude. The title poem says it
all:</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 3;"> </span>I
COULD PEE ON THIS</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Her
new sweater doesn’t smell of me</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee on that</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>She’s
gone out for the day and</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>left
her laptop on the counter</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee on that</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>Her
new boyfriend just pushed </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my
head away</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee on him</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>She’s
ignoring me ignoring her</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee everywhere</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She’s making up for it </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>by putting me on her lap</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee on this</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>I
could pee on this</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Notice that the cat only contemplates the threat, but
that the threat is preeminent cat philosophy. </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our cat, Fiona, approves this message. You can see her fur
alongside the book photo, where she insisted on pressing herself against the
scanner to watch the light move (next best thing to watching the printer, which
is second only to watching the DVD changer slide in and out on the TV – her favorite
pastime).</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><br />
<o:p></o:p><a name='more'></a><br />
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I mention all this because I recently bought a new
computer. (Well, had one built from the ground up – about the same price as a
good off-the-shelf, but with far better components.) I also finally overcame my
inertia and installed Windows 7, warned that it would take time to get used to.
(!!) The installation of other programs and peripherals required obtaining new
drivers, and in some cases new versions of programs that I have used for years.
I had to remove and reload several applications. I was “not recognized” by many
secure sites that I use and had to prove my identity. I could pee on all that. </span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well then, of course not only Windows 7 was different but
everything that came with it is different. In the long run I like it a lot, but
it was work figuring things out and looking up help files. I could pee on that,
too.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then, new programs had moved old tools to different
places and changed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>their names. Or
changed what they did and assigned old functions to something else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could pee on that for a long, long time.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There were, in fact, curses aplenty. Tears. Wails,
growls, moans and naps to recover. I could pee a whole bunch of times.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s all about attitude, or cattiude. Don’t mess with me.
I drink a lot of coffee.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-78950994078436358932012-10-08T14:49:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:43:43.779-07:00Collecting Interests Change With the Times<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Recently I have had several discussions with various
antiques, ephemera, and book dealers about changes in collecting interests.
Antiques dealers cite the loss of interest in Victoriana, carnival glass,
pressed glass, china, and many of the 1970s-80s “collectibles” that were issued
for “collectors.” Booksellers note flagging interest in Western Americana,
reference books that have been digitized online, and a slump in the collectible
children’s books market. The last generation’s nostalgia moves along with the
generations. It’s a constant trend, and a sharp seller will not only note what
is coming on, but will try to see what will be sought after in future. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZjT0AyjHs8dp93qHDwD1K7GElnuCMoMzGgZKefzzTXCetnzB3kG4x-EbiMLfxCQM3uDJVHs0eFfracYEC53gWjCM2PGoH4YcsCizurdAieMfkt6pppSYxajFxrl6lkYZciW-xpXU4pU/s1600/new+year+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUZjT0AyjHs8dp93qHDwD1K7GElnuCMoMzGgZKefzzTXCetnzB3kG4x-EbiMLfxCQM3uDJVHs0eFfracYEC53gWjCM2PGoH4YcsCizurdAieMfkt6pppSYxajFxrl6lkYZciW-xpXU4pU/s320/new+year+dog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a dealer in ephemera – including <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>postcards<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>-- I have, over the years, seen many changes in collecting interests
involving<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>these little pasteboard
artifacts. 40 years ago there was an earnest group of collectors seeking
Pioneers (the earliest postal cards), “Gruss <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aus” (greetings from) as well as late 19<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>
and early 20<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> Century artist-signed illustrated cards and cards on
specific topics and holidays. Christmas, New Year, and scarcer holiday cards
such as July 4<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>, President birthdays, Labor Day,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Groundhog Day, and Halloween were popular. In
the 1940s, linen cards appeared and until the 1980s or so these were pretty
much despised. The 1950s saw chrome (color cards with shiny surfaces) replace
linen, and these are still mostly shunned. </span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUa7a_IkGXVR_ik3s-QYuHOd_lpcqCZEMOR2MtHrqV6r56LHlzb5pBPK2pe7b3N9PajfivW9S8H8MEcCEc5FxWmqRSQoawrBTDPCsKYR2IA8VjMg3oYZPfs1t205-YrsV0jOixI1fMHY/s1600/chic+and+rabbit+dressed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUa7a_IkGXVR_ik3s-QYuHOd_lpcqCZEMOR2MtHrqV6r56LHlzb5pBPK2pe7b3N9PajfivW9S8H8MEcCEc5FxWmqRSQoawrBTDPCsKYR2IA8VjMg3oYZPfs1t205-YrsV0jOixI1fMHY/s320/chic+and+rabbit+dressed.jpg" width="189" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyQHnfPPKO80Ssq9LccQt6FFRUIn16jwkp7CrAJ-qTjMzfP7tYd6ilEmZO_P_vmG07WKuHLY5x-rsnFREI-LbKLMxITg1Kf99vigP5pT2NGHMNOjseAv1mOCicREIsXeg9WRLFrEA5J8/s1600/rabbits+with+plow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyQHnfPPKO80Ssq9LccQt6FFRUIn16jwkp7CrAJ-qTjMzfP7tYd6ilEmZO_P_vmG07WKuHLY5x-rsnFREI-LbKLMxITg1Kf99vigP5pT2NGHMNOjseAv1mOCicREIsXeg9WRLFrEA5J8/s320/rabbits+with+plow.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was little interest, coming into the 1970s era, in
Easter or Thanksgiving cards although some of the best-collected illustrators
designed many of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a personal
interest in cards depicting poultry, and I bought a considerable number of
Easter and Thanksgiving cards during the time when they were sold for 25 cents,
or five for a dollar, or some few special ones were even a dollar or so. I
favored cards with chickens and other barnyard fowl, which led to rabbits and
hares and other offshoots, such as anthropomorphic versions of the same
subjects – animals dressed in human clothing, playing human games, driving
vehicles such as autos and trains. Another sidebar was animals pulling carts.
(These were for my personal collection, which I still retain.) Beware that
collecting postcards can lead to expanded interests!</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gcxVhRxFfp5MRTkFACp-DqI6EaZmi7kyyCoLZRSdaSEp37WDLuDdAiL9M5_lfC9uqnr-I7vu_rCNVexRpaVZIK-casNyEIBWwqneOyLtqbfDQhcBVyLzpwsAiBHI2cWYAawjtcR6Wfw/s1600/goat+and+chicksi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gcxVhRxFfp5MRTkFACp-DqI6EaZmi7kyyCoLZRSdaSEp37WDLuDdAiL9M5_lfC9uqnr-I7vu_rCNVexRpaVZIK-casNyEIBWwqneOyLtqbfDQhcBVyLzpwsAiBHI2cWYAawjtcR6Wfw/s320/goat+and+chicksi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">These days, some of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>these cards are priced at shows for up to $35, even in these
recessionary times, while Santa cards and Halloween, once the hottest of
illustrated cards, now sell for half what they did a few years ago. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVyPW5BxecpFi0woor6Hru38lez0BKlYMpnZi-MMkRhyVGpeV6RbBJjgDIS3y0HSdUozYtZlZB9jnvull3sqWBgI3VQg6HERLz1RIsB94mT_W1KOj2yQbof7mNAPoe6DpbAfqaJ_xV5s/s1600/linen+ranchotel.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVyPW5BxecpFi0woor6Hru38lez0BKlYMpnZi-MMkRhyVGpeV6RbBJjgDIS3y0HSdUozYtZlZB9jnvull3sqWBgI3VQg6HERLz1RIsB94mT_W1KOj2yQbof7mNAPoe6DpbAfqaJ_xV5s/s320/linen+ranchotel.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-maJrMAOkwZDi0ziFtNVU0W6bOYXQxPaps9EthOepzPwBHsPU5E5A3wHOy8dkSFFvxoL3YNft-M_-RuYfrba-RfUY79sr_UHsbLSLQaZt4MyJSa98Q7UBMi2gLeaPBFhrguiFnyC8O4c/s1600/portland.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-maJrMAOkwZDi0ziFtNVU0W6bOYXQxPaps9EthOepzPwBHsPU5E5A3wHOy8dkSFFvxoL3YNft-M_-RuYfrba-RfUY79sr_UHsbLSLQaZt4MyJSa98Q7UBMi2gLeaPBFhrguiFnyC8O4c/s320/portland.jpg.jpg" width="210" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I also purchased the despised linen cards by the boxful.
They are colorful, they reflect a post-war era in which Americans began to
travel freely and frequently, and while many modern conveniences were in
various increments of development. Social and gender attitudes were shifting.
Many cards sported Art Deco and Streamline Art Moderne <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>graphic <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>styles, such as the World Fairs cards from
1933 Century of Progress, and the 1939-40 fairs in New York and San Francisco.
Mid-Century autos, buses, trains, furniture, architecture, airlines, and recreational
activities were depicted. Well lo! – those cards are now also desirable.</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwsVdYv5ZCoFPaoRtffgvhNS_0tFteUOdfFmfj5em3cLsqb-lVjtWjre0wLEO08gnOckr41S5l4rniTNplw0hTn5ayp8U0C5geizHGuDBToL8P2poPMKpuWoMVmsWPM7DoBmLyStA1ZM/s1600/north+winds+motel.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUwsVdYv5ZCoFPaoRtffgvhNS_0tFteUOdfFmfj5em3cLsqb-lVjtWjre0wLEO08gnOckr41S5l4rniTNplw0hTn5ayp8U0C5geizHGuDBToL8P2poPMKpuWoMVmsWPM7DoBmLyStA1ZM/s320/north+winds+motel.jpg.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Moving into the early chrome era, there is a strong
market developing, especially for Roadside America, motels, transportation, and
other topics of a society on the go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Images of movie stars, celebrities, and other personalities are sought. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Be assured that post-1970 cards will be moving up in the
collecting market. There are already some collecting clubs and websites
specializing in modern cards. Some are there to spoof the extremes of
advertising and imagery, such as Bad Postcards:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><a href="http://bad-postcards.tumblr.com/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;">http://bad-postcards.tumblr.com/</span></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A new eBay store (GoCatchEmCards) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>features similar material: </span><a href="http://tinyurl.com/929xqda"><b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 7.5pt;"><span style="color: blue;">http://tinyurl.com/929xqda</span></span></b></a><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaOMkb4UIS0tt3k3iFBhO5tddQXUHtUdVPxQ2RsI8FQ8RA5c0lT2x-TnSsnkdzRBf_oowFWPoEYdbKDnT9ozef-ZRqzKzIgUykKSN2klgTEv34KRYV5WMUk_e1Q8qPW9lgl0ZagqUQu4/s1600/interior.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaOMkb4UIS0tt3k3iFBhO5tddQXUHtUdVPxQ2RsI8FQ8RA5c0lT2x-TnSsnkdzRBf_oowFWPoEYdbKDnT9ozef-ZRqzKzIgUykKSN2klgTEv34KRYV5WMUk_e1Q8qPW9lgl0ZagqUQu4/s320/interior.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interior with piano and sheet music, decorated<br />
for Valentine's Day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another category that was largely ignored until the past
few decades is Real Photo cards. There was a time when these (often sepia-toned)
cards were considered to be boring. Small town street scenes held little
interest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgITGfidvQIUcWdGJJ8a4TFHGO0HiXbQJsxLDYhSG9O5gp2YdK6hsaXdw1lS-anbf_ttkHLWdx6CPER_hMPn_D_RoztYYP1syTSWpXQuwsJIeDAResQG9i9gL11pUpRA_3gPiPeCMNo0zs/s1600/rose+festival.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgITGfidvQIUcWdGJJ8a4TFHGO0HiXbQJsxLDYhSG9O5gp2YdK6hsaXdw1lS-anbf_ttkHLWdx6CPER_hMPn_D_RoztYYP1syTSWpXQuwsJIeDAResQG9i9gL11pUpRA_3gPiPeCMNo0zs/s320/rose+festival.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portland Oregon Rose Festival, 1905 (real photo)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Real photos of events, vehicles, occupations, architecture,
disasters, and other subjects of historical interest did not catch on until
people began to realize that these were often one of a kind, or that they
depicted places and lifestyles and so forth as little time capsules of the
past. They are about the hottest collecting area right now.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><br />
<o:p></o:p> </div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMsoQYOdOev6SbgjZcf1b7nSNd-kExLc1vABOHyZ2x0nAC_fbvnd4AREQrKYCXjaVC0XK4lWCL4enuHjAbjG90VbxDxou4q3GIlIdByCo35-oHOeocJauO-BGsAXCjfM1wgQmTojVzi8/s1600/jazz.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMsoQYOdOev6SbgjZcf1b7nSNd-kExLc1vABOHyZ2x0nAC_fbvnd4AREQrKYCXjaVC0XK4lWCL4enuHjAbjG90VbxDxou4q3GIlIdByCo35-oHOeocJauO-BGsAXCjfM1wgQmTojVzi8/s320/jazz.jpg.jpg" width="218" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poster cards like these for the<br />
New Orleans Jazz Festival will<br />
be collected for their graphics, as well<br />
as for their association with music,<br />
jazz, and New Orleans</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibx5v27J-sNAQw3EwNrdS_FeszPcG_UaeyGSCaS4BPrieEVRxZ8I1mYWIaCQY9-_4F4N9XDmENgLYCTrPbFno_EM5_Yq7JmxpGhuKOVRd9yDZyCningE-GzBPpHOHQgee2kg0EH3gXML0/s1600/New+orleans+jazz.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibx5v27J-sNAQw3EwNrdS_FeszPcG_UaeyGSCaS4BPrieEVRxZ8I1mYWIaCQY9-_4F4N9XDmENgLYCTrPbFno_EM5_Yq7JmxpGhuKOVRd9yDZyCningE-GzBPpHOHQgee2kg0EH3gXML0/s320/New+orleans+jazz.jpg.jpg" width="184" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This barely touches the subject, of course. But bear in
mind that what is disregarded by one generation becomes interesting to the
next. Look around for some “minor” or overlooked collecting areas for hidden
gems or merchandise that could appreciate. Look at other collecting genres for
ideas. 1970s fashions, changes in gender perception, automobile images,
environmental and social movements, “hippies” and flower children, rock star
icons and concerts, racial issues, even riots and recent wars could yield some compelling
collecting areas. There are collectors of cards depicting sports (golf,
baseball teams, and bullfighting are popular topics), fishing, humor (of many
shades). Interiors of hotels, restaurants, diners, groceries and other
establishments are of increasing interest.</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The point is, desirability (of anything collectible)
changes with the times, frequently moving forward as nostalgia inspires newer
collectors. Hence “Mid-Century Modern,” a style that was of little interest 20
years ago except perhaps for some high-end furniture by regarded designers, or
some Swedish Modern styles in glassware, furniture, etc., is now a hot
collecting area. Postcards that depict this visual vocabulary will not be far
behind. </span></div>
EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-13470636755811360402012-09-09T17:51:00.000-07:002012-09-09T17:53:53.506-07:00How Many Fish in the Ocean?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
40 years ago I was deeply involved in environmental action programs. In fact, my then-spouse was a student at the University or Oregon in the Honors program, part of which included an optional program called “Search.” Each student in Search prepared his or her own topic and, with the supervision of a faculty advisor, outlined a curriculum or project to satisfy academic requirements.<br />
<br />
So was born a class titled “Can Man Survive?” Since the catalog for the term had already been issued, my husband (Zed) and his advisor (John) and I sat around our dining room table and made paper signs by hand. We hung these all over campus (an environmental irony I suppose) and planned for 30 students.<br />
<br />
We were not far into registration day when one of the registrars called and said that the class had been filled – could it be enlarged? I checked and the answer was, “sure.” So larger room was assigned (150 capacity) but in a couple of hours there was another call. At that point the decision was, “leave it open.” Larger and larger rooms were assigned, until finally the only option was the basketball court. 4200 students signed up, and since the townfolk were also invited, 6300 people attended the first class. It made the Wall Street journal and CBS news. <br />
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For some people, it was the first time the word “ecology” entered their vocabulary. The idea of the class was for people to form “action groups” on a matter they felt strongly about, and to devise some methods for dealing with problems. Some opted merely to do research and write reports. Others dove into projects such as cleaning up our local rivers, saving a piece of virgin old growth forest from logging, creating a food co-op and a low-income medical clinic, and many others. Leading experts in various fields from education to environmental issues came to speak. A great deal more happened but my purpose in relating all this is that when we spoke of the loss of family farms, the environmental impact on food supplies from changing climate, drugs in feed, pesticides in produce, and the need to take action - many people blithely replied, “oh, whatever happens the scientists will fix it,” and “there will always be fish in the ocean.” As you know, neither has come to pass. Only now – 40 years later – are some of these issues being taken seriously. And clearly the fish have declined disastrously. When I was a child halibut was one of the cheapest foods you could buy. The last time I looked at it in the market, it was $22.99 a pound.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObKUokVSJ1GdIcUFqvxdTRwxBNz5O6SB2YYcIsM5CVQLWQHFJW5qEwKQY9q09bam91fz9gO815R-BaCFaiDRGLuopcjYcYqB6yVNWeFeY9q6x3Gyv5Cv_ANlbLvVrbEp8Qhx5p20RX7A/s1600/closeup+withdrawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObKUokVSJ1GdIcUFqvxdTRwxBNz5O6SB2YYcIsM5CVQLWQHFJW5qEwKQY9q09bam91fz9gO815R-BaCFaiDRGLuopcjYcYqB6yVNWeFeY9q6x3Gyv5Cv_ANlbLvVrbEp8Qhx5p20RX7A/s320/closeup+withdrawn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So it’s interesting that I have in hand a book that was withdrawn from the Smithsonian library, titled “Report on the Construction and Outfit of the United States Fish Commission Steamer Albatross. The first sentence of this book reads, “The alleged decrease of the food-fishes along the sea-coasts and in the lakes of the United States induced the passage by Congress, in 1871, an act authorizing the appointment ….”<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yErLYKfRATNiY2F71w-SowyA_cteoLGkUmyTZeeq05mdJNxp-xk6cDElC2CscijNUHeYpLS27bJ94_eWw00WPrpoL-ZuYwvwJ_FhSeMXoZhl1R0DqtUYcKyWhO3HZY2UXAjYl6OlCYk/s1600/first+page.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yErLYKfRATNiY2F71w-SowyA_cteoLGkUmyTZeeq05mdJNxp-xk6cDElC2CscijNUHeYpLS27bJ94_eWw00WPrpoL-ZuYwvwJ_FhSeMXoZhl1R0DqtUYcKyWhO3HZY2UXAjYl6OlCYk/s200/first+page.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
I didn’t make a typo there. That date really is 1871. The book was published c. 1885. (The book appears to be missing a title page, and the few online listings indicate 1884 and 1885, while the only WorldCat listings are for 1885.) It deals with the construction, outfitting, and voyage of a specially-built steamship for the purpose of studying the fish populations, with many wonderful fold-out plates.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaN_J5ux2rDGMOe14kI0WZCjlv5L_OkyF6uSszUWstS4Et1V9reu94j9ImiE7Uy5fIr5EOjkqTymJdeeHVN4Ls81GOtTluUkcGzJHWun-TxFql00Mm3nLFQ1JlWc_RNvQS0jr8XO98sI/s1600/endpapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaN_J5ux2rDGMOe14kI0WZCjlv5L_OkyF6uSszUWstS4Et1V9reu94j9ImiE7Uy5fIr5EOjkqTymJdeeHVN4Ls81GOtTluUkcGzJHWun-TxFql00Mm3nLFQ1JlWc_RNvQS0jr8XO98sI/s200/endpapers.jpg" width="158" /></a></div>
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But the book itself raises some questions... It has been recased in a library binding with Smithsonian endpapers and paste-downs, so at least they did this part of the repairs. My curiosity resides with some additional repairs, which seem very amateurish. So I’m wondering whether the Smithsonian could have been so fumble-handed as to perpetrate these atrocities and what the materials used might be. I know for a fact that this book was purchased directly from the Smithsonian when they were deacquisitioning, so perhaps they acquired the book already well used (which seems rather strange) and these repairs were done prior to their ownership. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIHpW9YDBX0Ni6mpCIpx4JU24kmDQ936ePsx0YRmrrVJpdB2WsCD8dHoMKDnLczZNk8xfC2k16x2A7509b3OKgBII4gmVNaZn7xSazy8PsXmobQnxLMLIVwWuRxhqbff74v5_7yB_ncY/s1600/frontis+front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIHpW9YDBX0Ni6mpCIpx4JU24kmDQ936ePsx0YRmrrVJpdB2WsCD8dHoMKDnLczZNk8xfC2k16x2A7509b3OKgBII4gmVNaZn7xSazy8PsXmobQnxLMLIVwWuRxhqbff74v5_7yB_ncY/s200/frontis+front.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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The folding frontis is reinforced on the back with some kind of laminated or glued plasticky stuff (like cellophane tape, only it apparently came in a sheet.) There is strip of similar material down the front of the fold. Some of that has come loose and it obviously has discolored the paper badly. (The “half-title,” page, which is more like a subtitle or section title, has a reinforcing tape strip on the fore edge, but it appears to be more recent, and different. More like Magic Mending tape, and although yellowed, it seems not to have discolored the paper in the same way as the other stuff.) Man, somebody has really gummed up this rather valuable book! </div>
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However, the real question is: does anyone recognize this laminate type material? It doesn’t seem possible that it could be removed without further damage to the already fragile paper, nor could the effects of the adhesive stain be reversed. So I guess I’m just curious as to whether this is something that the Smithsonian would have done, and what this odd material might be. </div>
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(Inquiries welcome about purchase of this volume, if anyone is interested.)<br />
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EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-66238459819984862002012-08-10T14:03:00.000-07:002012-08-10T14:03:23.281-07:00More on The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency<br />
I have just finished reading another of Alexander McCall Smith’s charming novels about Mma Ramotswe and her detective agency, the one and only in Gaborone, Botswana. I keep wondering why I continue to feel refreshed after reading one of them. The stories are sweet and compelling, although not riveting. The characters have grown through the course of the novels, each with his or her quirks and motivations, until I feel as though I know them fairly well. (Actually, McCall does little in the way of description – a few character tags, and you fill in the rest for yourself.) <br />
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Precious Ramotswe has some weight, a condition she refers to as “traditionally built.” In fact, the title of this recently-read book is “Tea Time for the Traditionally Built.” (I am not reading these in sequence, but as they come along.)<br />
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But I come away from one of them feeling warm, relaxed, happy, and somehow elevated in my perceptions of human behavior. More forgiving, perhaps. More capable of allowing for human differences. And just as I was trying to figure out the exact reasons for this, I came across this passage, in which Mma Ramotswe’s recently-wed husband, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni (the is how they address each other, in fact) reflects on his feeling for his wife:<br />
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“He looked away. He was not one for displays of emotion; he never had been, but it made his heart swell to be thanked by this woman who stood for so much in his eyes; who stood for kindness and generosity and understanding; for a country of which he was so proud; who stood for Africa and all the love that Africa contained.”<br />
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And that about says it. Precious worries at the loss of old traditions of respect, kindness, generosity, etc. as the newer generation adopts more selfish and unthinking ways, even as she upholds those traditions herself. She loves Africa in a way that I can understand in my heart, as common to those of us who feel our roots in a place run deep. <br />
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It is not a love that blinds: she knows the failings and failures of her beloved country. “”We were tiny creatures, really;” she thinks, “tiny and afraid, trying to hold our place on the little platform that was our earth. So while the world about us might seem so solid, so permanent, it was not really. We were all at the mercy of chance, no matter how confident we felt, hostages to our own human frailty. And that applied not only to people, but to countries too. Things could go wrong and entire nations could be led into a world of living nightmare; it had happened, and was happening still. Poor Africa, which could stand for love and happiness and joy, could also be a place of suffering and shame. But that suffering was not the only story, thought Mma Ramotswe. There was a story of courage and determination and goodness that could be told as well, and she was proud that her country, her Botswana, had been part of that.”<br />
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(Smith may, incidentally, be single-handedly responsible for reviving the semi-colon in literature.)<br />
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So in those quotations lie the answer to my questions. Deeply probing philosophy gently robed in kindness. <br />
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<br />EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-37899668689597441532012-07-03T18:56:00.001-07:002012-07-03T18:57:24.010-07:00Did I Love It? Did I Hate it? I haven’t decided….<br />
John Lanchester’s <i>The Debt to Pleasure</i> sports a subtle cover, a picture of peaches and grapes on a while tablecloth, with a very small script “A Novel” located at the base of a peach. In other words, if you don’t pay attention, you might miss the fact that it’s fiction. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipRT4tmBt1br0MzGFrtQorKdPpe7pUP3aJNnPFQ9sLEB9ozSU8D_H3-t2oZU_KwU0BXsPjM36HUpI3JGQJf6Rr3Thy8JshxHQ67CcyGkFOtuQlOjgITgZijHh9Ww_-e_V3MJDvk9odXYM/s1600/debt+to+pleasurej.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipRT4tmBt1br0MzGFrtQorKdPpe7pUP3aJNnPFQ9sLEB9ozSU8D_H3-t2oZU_KwU0BXsPjM36HUpI3JGQJf6Rr3Thy8JshxHQ67CcyGkFOtuQlOjgITgZijHh9Ww_-e_V3MJDvk9odXYM/s320/debt+to+pleasurej.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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While you would no doubt realize that it’s fiction before reading too far, the beginning is deceptive enough that you might feel that you are reading a food commentary akin to the writings of Brillat-Savarin, potentially because the author compares his book to that gourmand reporter. There is a lot about food and food history, and even some recipes, but all of the food related material is rather incidental and misleading except as it reveals a good deal about the narrator, and is used to introduce some of the characters.<br />
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You have to watch for clues in the text to discover what you are really reading, which is something of a murder mystery. I don’t think I have ever read a sneakier book in terms of not announcing its genre. There are some other unusual twists, which I dare not describe for fear of being a “spoiler.”<br />
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Aside from a devious plot and a lot of foodie stuff, this book contains a good deal of wit, sarcasm, hauteur, snideness and humor. Most remarkable is the author’s construction of sentences and paragraphs. The latter can run to two or more pages, the former – well, these are some of the longest and most compound-complex constructions I have seen since I was married to a man who couldn’t be bothered with punctuation. However, Lanchester produces sentences that a true masterpieces: they amble along through myriad subjects, related but often not in obvious ways, full of allusions, similes, and metaphors, with often something wrenchingly funny in their midst. Quoting one would be appropriate here, but frankly my patience and fingers are just not up to it. <br />
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I admit that I found the author exhibiting a high degree of intelligence, no small amount of gustatorial expertise, a wry and sometimes almost cruel sense of humor, and confident in his deceptiveness. As you read, you think you know what the subject is, but find that you have been tricked. You believe that you have built an accurate picture of characters and motivations, only to have that image fracture into shards. Your own expectations about the characters will lead to disappointment. Any attempt to guess at the ending is doomed to failure. Any expectation of a typical resolution or climax will be disappointed. You may feel guilty if you experience delight or pleasure in this book by the time you reach the end.<br />
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Or you may just wind up wondering if you loved it, or hated it.<br />
<br />EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-26197677506325206032012-05-25T11:30:00.000-07:002012-05-25T12:09:16.337-07:00Another Wonderful Book Fair<br />
Once again, I rushed to prepare for the Rose City Book Fair in Portland (OR) May 18-19. I didn’t mean to rush – I had planned to have plenty of time. But then we had unexpected visitors, more visitors, and some more visitors. Which was lovely, since some were family and some were colleagues who bought some inventory. None-the-less, the preparation time evaporated. Fortunately, I have a lot of inventory permanently set up and ready to go – postcards, photos, maps, and ephemera. Although I had planned to sort, repackage, and index the ephemera before the show, that just didn’t get done. In time it will be.<br />
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In any case, the show – as usual – was well organized and very accommodating and friendly. None better. It is put on by the Portland Area Used Book Sellers Assn. and was started to give area booksellers a venue some years after the old Oregon Antiquarian Book Fair died. This year the Rose City show moved to a new venue – pleasingly, the site used for the old Antiquarian book fair. (The Doubletree Hotel, Lloyd Center, Portland Oregon.) Shades of the past, good memories of bygone days (and of some of the book dealers who have gone on to the Great Library in the sky). There is plenty of room for this show to grow, if only enough dealers remain enthusiastic about supporting it. <br />
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Portland as viewed from the hotel roof. <br />
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This year there were dealers from four states, and some very interesting material on display. Not to mention many with bargain books. Robert Gavorra was right inside the front door with a table proclaiming “no book over $10” and he meant it. Which actually reassured newcomers and walk-ins that this was not a stuffy environment where they couldn’t afford to enter. The show’s motto is “An unpretentious book fair.” The whole idea is to make the show affordable for dealers. There are tables for rent but dealers provide their own table covers, lights if they want them, and so forth. There are no curtains around the booths, which leaves the area light, uncluttered, and with good line of sight. (I much prefer this to all of those tedious little cloth caves that some shows provide.) On the other hand, for dealers the club provides bagels, donuts, and the like in the mornings, and sandwiches, chips, and beverages mid-day on Saturday, when some may not be able to get away from their booths to eat lunch. <br />
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Entry fees are also reasonable. $2, or a can of food and $1. The food, and half the gate receipts, go to the Oregon Food Bank. The club also left free passes on the hotel check-in counter and provides them to dealers ahead of time for distribution. <br />
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We threw the stuff into the van on Thursday morning –the sun shining agreeably (not a big deal for some, but this is Oregon). Unloaded and set up Thursday evening. Had a convivial “happy hour” in the hotel lounge with some colleagues. The show didn’t open to the public until 2 p.m. Friday (and ran until 8 p.m.) but the doors opened for dealers at 9 a.m., giving us a chance to scope (and scoop) each others’ goods. And the sun was shining. The 8 pm closing sent us to the lounge again, where the supper fare was just excellent. (The hotel restaurant was open only for breakfast and lunch, also excellent and our waiter “Ming” was delightful, funny, attentive, and still highly professional. Ask for him if you are ever there.)<br />
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Some hotel guests who wandered in seemed surprised to find themselves at a book fair. One gentleman stopped at my booth to admire a book. Said that he had just arrived and would look around. Unlike most “be backs” he did return to my booth to purchase the book ($85) and while there, had a phone call. I heard him explaining that he was at a book fair, obviously a bit stunned to discover himself there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLGVYi9sAQysBZv7_SIunLw4YijwSaS4i3PKD9ZXX9arOuyMYQ5DY9pZDqOJyhO2GvHc6Qje8L9jNf0k9ZP34hv4NRWaC6_udcUwO88QGzOt0tRFgTsIl-EBvTpHRP531Y6FedGruBGs/s1600/booth+during+show.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLGVYi9sAQysBZv7_SIunLw4YijwSaS4i3PKD9ZXX9arOuyMYQ5DY9pZDqOJyhO2GvHc6Qje8L9jNf0k9ZP34hv4NRWaC6_udcUwO88QGzOt0tRFgTsIl-EBvTpHRP531Y6FedGruBGs/s320/booth+during+show.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>My booth during the show. That's me in the blue jacket on the aisle. The activity at the near end is at the postcard tables - I'll invent some kind of sign to go over it, since it's popular but kind of hidden there at the end.<br />
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Saturday morning we opened at 10 and ran until 5 pm, when everyone broke down quickly and hit the road. And the sun was shining. By Monday it was raining and has done so steadily since with temperatures mid-50s to mid-60s, but who cares? It was a bright and shiny show with reasonably good attendance. There was also good walk-in from hotel guests. I did about 2/3 of my normal “take” at the show, but given the current economy and the change of venue, it was not unexpected and still represented a reasonable profit, and some new customers to follow up with. Of course I spent more than I took in, but that will flip into greater profit.<br />
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There are no words to express my admiration for the volunteers who produce and run this show. The enthusiasm and thought going into it are incredible, and the results are always pleasing.<br />
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<br />EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-19776956669708128632012-05-05T10:44:00.000-07:002012-05-05T10:44:06.555-07:00On preventing mold in BerriesThis tip is circulating around the Internet. It often includes a nice photo, but since they seem to be copyright protected so I won't post them. But having had particularly bad luck with keeping berries this year so far, I wanted to pass this along (slightly modified from the original):<br />
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Berries are delicate. Raspberries in particular seem to mold before you get them home from the market. There's nothing more tragic than paying $4 for a pint of local raspberries, only to look in the fridge the next day and find fuzzy mold growing on their insides. <br />
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Wash them with vinegar. <br />
When you get the berries home, prepare a mixture of one part vinegar (white or apple cider probably work best) and ten parts water. Dump the berries into the mixture and swirl around. Drain, rinse if you want and pop them into the fridge. The vinegar kills mold spores and bacteria on the surface of the fruit, and voila! Raspberries will last a week or more, strawberries can last up to two weeks without mold. <br />
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I haven't tried this yet (waiting for the price of raspberries to come down in fact) but it seems very logical. Vinegar's acidity does kill or diminsh the effects of mold. Apple cider vinegar in particular has many beneficial uses, from a good spring tonic to relief of arthritis. D.C. JARVIS M.D. has written several books describing these benefits. The one on Folk Medicine I found particularly useful over the past 45 years.<br />
<br />EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-72488130707531317382012-04-11T14:48:00.000-07:002012-04-21T11:30:13.613-07:00A Little Bit About Altered Books<br />
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Now and then I am confronted by someone who does not understand how I can participate in activity that involves “destroying books.” But yes – I do, and without qualms.<br />
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Georgia O'Keefe homage, for "Divine Women" altered book</div>
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I explain to them that hundreds of thousands of unwanted books are shredded or sent to the landfill every year. It’s hard to swallow, if you love books, but not every printed volume is precious. Book alterers try to “repurpose” these unwanted books into works of art. Others use old books to create shelves, accessories such as handbags, even furniture. <br />
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"Henge" foldout for Spiritual Places altered book</div>
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Some of us just enjoy creating art in them. That can involve carving niches, gluing things into them, painting pages, and whatever creative approaches one can devise.<br />
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Others created by carving. I can’t imagine the patience it takes for Su Blackwell to do what she does, but the results are fantastically beautiful. <a href="http://goo.gl/qCS2C">Su Blackwell's fabulous book sculptures.</a><br />
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Brian Dettmer is no less amazing with his “revealed” image carving. <br />
<a href="http://briandettmer.com/">Brian Dettmer's intriguing book carvings.</a><br />
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And no, I don’t even try to emulate these artists. I just have fun with a group of local friends who participate in round robins. Each member starts a book on a theme, and then the books are passed from member to member so that each can created in each book. At the end the books wind up back with the person who started them, but now stuffed with the artwork of other members. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirj8ALo6dqVtZSxDXTaai0T7T6gIkggi0AzqlwbwX7hoMOtRkFQ7v7FQ_OnbwCiUFiJ_KzbSTpBIeEVMZy88FnbpGrFuRx603BmSzZJcXJQUJsmO3PV1iTPhK68FKFtDSsW8ocjqphTq0/s1600/cat+ate+bird+(coleridge).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirj8ALo6dqVtZSxDXTaai0T7T6gIkggi0AzqlwbwX7hoMOtRkFQ7v7FQ_OnbwCiUFiJ_KzbSTpBIeEVMZy88FnbpGrFuRx603BmSzZJcXJQUJsmO3PV1iTPhK68FKFtDSsW8ocjqphTq0/s320/cat+ate+bird+(coleridge).jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
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"I Killed the Bird" for Literary Cats altered book </div>
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Well, what are they good for? people then ask. What is any artwork good for? To enjoy – to look at again and again – to share with visitors (many of whom become so intrigued that they want to participate). Each book becomes a virtual art gallery. Since the members of each round robin tend to change from one session to another (each person has three to four weeks to complete a minimum number of pages, the length of time and number of pages depending on the number of participating members) there are always new approaches and styles. There are usually 8-12 participants, so one round robin per year is about the limit for most of us. Other groups participate by mail, or they exchange pages to be inserted in the books. <br />
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In respect of the rights of my fellow artists, I won’t post examples of their work, but herein I have offered a few of my own.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFJ7NKhjme_O27pFc23FPS0-mRN5AUcY3W25Wv836XZVW7Cn6NwoQCPuPmhbqNI_1AAqCmaBr7V-oG7eDelzweRpvwK518I0QlY3a8FBhEZqmKXpuIFkfLwaW0SAkP1nhfBlTrlyfuek/s1600/copperfrog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFJ7NKhjme_O27pFc23FPS0-mRN5AUcY3W25Wv836XZVW7Cn6NwoQCPuPmhbqNI_1AAqCmaBr7V-oG7eDelzweRpvwK518I0QlY3a8FBhEZqmKXpuIFkfLwaW0SAkP1nhfBlTrlyfuek/s320/copperfrog.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
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Copper embossed frog for "Frog" altered book </div>
<br />EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-73349558589222301542012-04-08T11:03:00.003-07:002012-04-08T11:05:45.945-07:00The Rocking-Horse in Literature: a Genre of Faint Accomplishments<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xyRiW-jw1yoKc0xqKezP9SipeFMTq_lNda8qE4F431lnZr3hkpGn3Rv3yHiR0f7vQ3EeQZaPFMbwzjpE8SipEWuQ5iblcEzvK6g3r39vnwR6sYzrCCvZedsIEOTcB52GiJ7z_vu2k4Q/s1600/bookbuyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xyRiW-jw1yoKc0xqKezP9SipeFMTq_lNda8qE4F431lnZr3hkpGn3Rv3yHiR0f7vQ3EeQZaPFMbwzjpE8SipEWuQ5iblcEzvK6g3r39vnwR6sYzrCCvZedsIEOTcB52GiJ7z_vu2k4Q/s320/bookbuyer.jpg" width="227" /></a> </div>
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With an interest in literature and the history of the book, I recently browsed one of The Book Buyer magazines that I purchase from a colleague. This magazine offered reviews of “American and Foreign” literature, author and illustrator profiles, reviews of new books, and even articles on such subjects as book plates. </div>
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One letter to the editor speaking to the issue of limp and thoughtless writing (and in particular of a new book of poetry by Charles Swinburne) is so pointed and amusing, and so deliciously phrased, that I gave up trying to edit it down and include it here in its entirety and without further comment.<br />
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The Rocking-Horse in Literature </div>
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John Maybury </div>
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To the editor of The Book Buyer (Scribner’s Sons, pub.)<br />
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Every now and then the patient reader of general literature is confronted with a specially exasperating example of what, for want of a better name, may be called the rocking-horse style. It occurs with some frequency in the short stories which furnish forth certain magazines, and it leaves the reader divided between discontent because the stories are no better, and gratitude because they are no worse.<br />
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The suggestion given by prose written in this style is of those spirited wooden steeds whose forefeet pay the air, and whose hind legs seem about to spring lightly from the rocker. But they never leave it. The horse gallops magnificently up and down, but never gets ahead; his promise is great, and his performance nothing; his form is the hunter’s, and his execution practically that of a three-legged stool. The story has interest, of a kind, and is smartly told; but nobody seems to amount to very much, or to do anything worth talking about.<br />
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In poetry, the rocking-horse manner is favored by many writers who balance line with line, cadence with cadence, and sometimes even word with word, so that their verse rocks as evenly as the staple rocking-horse of commerce. The result is often musical as a harp hung upon a bough; but it would take a wood-god to interpret the meaning. There is more excuse for this sort of material composition than for the prose, because there is a pretty well-defined impression abroad that a poet must sing in his own words, given him by the immortals, and that it is our own fault if our ears are not fine enough to hear his melody.<br />
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Still, it takes abundant charity, suffering long, to believe that all the young men and women who write this sort of verse are moved thereto by any worthier motive than the belief that it will taste sweet in the public mouth greedy for novelty, and that thus it will pay their bills. Now, it is granted that to pay one’s bill is honest, but it is not specially poetic, in itself considered.<br />
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The greatest poet in England is one of those who occasionally rock so furiously as to invite the belief that they do it to kill time while thinking up something to say. Mr. Swinburne’s new volume of poems is dedicated to William Morris in thirteen stanzas of liquid light – or something. One of the thirteen is apt among ten thousand as an illustration. Hark to the music – and then find the hidden meaning, if you can:<br />
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“Not yesterday’s light nor to-morrow’s<br />
Gleams nearer or clearer than gleams,<br />
Though joys be forgotten and sorrows<br />
Forgotten as changes of dreams,<br />
The dawn of the days unforgotten<br />
That noon could eclipse not or slay,<br />
Whose fruits were as children begotten<br />
Of dawn upon day.”<br />
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This is the noblest form of rocking-horse poetry, but fine as it is, and sweet its message, one comes crying as Pip’s benefactor used to say: “Might a mere warmint ask what” message? <br />
John Maybury New York, June 10, 1894<br />
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</div>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-86455233232694718502012-02-08T13:00:00.000-08:002012-02-09T12:10:31.321-08:00The 20,000,000 year old Mystery Skull of Oregon<br />
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The 20,000,000 year old Mystery Skull of Oregon</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPXTGXxP18BWXInZZURPkwqBClxqiMzamLgxW0V76LDb8s8RRFKDN9hOGnBrY-olFuM5morveCeZNglsi8IXBPx0g449cDXQBFfJcyyOBRy-ibuYamPGR1djAImMlAgyoOyRI9uaE605c/s1600/gold+hill+museum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPXTGXxP18BWXInZZURPkwqBClxqiMzamLgxW0V76LDb8s8RRFKDN9hOGnBrY-olFuM5morveCeZNglsi8IXBPx0g449cDXQBFfJcyyOBRy-ibuYamPGR1djAImMlAgyoOyRI9uaE605c/s320/gold+hill+museum.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old historical museum</td></tr>
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I remember visiting the Old Oregon Historical Museum at Gold Hill when I was a child. It was part of a group of roadside attractions that included the Oregon Vortex, Trees of Mystery, the Prehistoric Gardens (life-sized replicas of prehistoric animals), and if I recall correctly there was an Indian Village and a petting zoo, and whatever other enterprise that could thrown up near the Vortex, which was – and still is – a major attraction. </div>
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Studies suggest that there might be something weird at the site of the vortex – some magnetic influence, perhaps. (Supposedly aircraft compasses go haywire when flying over the site.) A lot of it is hyped-up though, a case of “don’t believe everything you see.” </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-sHgZVkD0mTopcbnjpaoA4lox3JLGUK8hndkerPoZA4ZMs6OSTYlQbFTZrjwhkrNKSLlD_CyLRktAM1Im-es_vJJHD2zK7elwiEosQmCR-K6k_rUp37tPtdV52JkVc_rfA0dlKWah1x0/s1600/Paul+Bunyan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-sHgZVkD0mTopcbnjpaoA4lox3JLGUK8hndkerPoZA4ZMs6OSTYlQbFTZrjwhkrNKSLlD_CyLRktAM1Im-es_vJJHD2zK7elwiEosQmCR-K6k_rUp37tPtdV52JkVc_rfA0dlKWah1x0/s200/Paul+Bunyan.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Bunyan and Babe at Trees of Mystery</td></tr>
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I haven’t been there for many, many years and apparently the museum has been refurbished to reflect the gold-mining era of the region. But when I was there it was a hodge-podge of weird and zany artifacts: two-headed sheep, various kinds of fetuses in jars, “mysterious objects” and so forth, along with legitimate pioneer and prospector memorabilia. </div>
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I don’t recall seeing the skull in this old postcard, and when I looked at it I was puzzled for a while. Then I realized that it is set on its “nose,” with the viewer looking at the palate with its “smiley” dentition depressions and the eye sockets from below – one of them deformed by pressure or crushing.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUuNMzq-hEQ0CCiZpflT1V15C_5iquiLeHv4NjZasDtWIujOhT3tAk3z-bXK0Xw1YLlamIorOutdrRZMDFeAHZpBLyEhRFe-iPcFIgixc6N-JPMQP8JVpZhx9S9Mp5PukPQuaDZcn2dY/s1600/Gold+Hill+Skull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUuNMzq-hEQ0CCiZpflT1V15C_5iquiLeHv4NjZasDtWIujOhT3tAk3z-bXK0Xw1YLlamIorOutdrRZMDFeAHZpBLyEhRFe-iPcFIgixc6N-JPMQP8JVpZhx9S9Mp5PukPQuaDZcn2dY/s320/Gold+Hill+Skull.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The caption reads: The Oregon Mystery Skull.<br />
Estimated to be more than 20,000,000 years old.<br />
Old Oregon Historical Museum, Gold Hill, Oregon</td></tr>
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Having solved that dilemma, the mystery remains – I haven’t identified what it is. The Oregon coastal area was, of course, once upon a time ocean floor so marine fossils are not uncommon, but then again the card does not identify where this object was found – and Oregon is rich in fossil remains. Educated guesses are welcome. One might estimate the size by the boards behind the skull, which appear to be approximately 8 inches wide. </div>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1Gold Hill, OR 97525, USA42.4317894 -123.050603542.4083499 -123.0900855 42.4552289 -123.01112149999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-89407908747064247042012-01-21T15:21:00.000-08:002012-01-21T15:28:04.175-08:00What Is It About Books?<br />
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What Is it About Books?</div>
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It was a dark and stormy night. Wind gusted wildly and
lashed the house and roof with rain that sounded like pea gravel shot from a
cannon. Small branches and limbs broke from the fir and oak trees around the
house and littered the deck and yard with dark, half-seen lumps that could have
been bodies or clumps of animated primeval sludge. OK, that’s going a bit far.
But it was very dark, very stormy, very wet, and Gary was out of town. </div>
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I had planned to do some work in the studio while he was
away, but the weather and atmosphere made me seek refuge. What better way to
spend such an evening than in a room full of books, nestled into my recliner in
a circle of light, cat on my lap and hot drink at my elbow? </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TMgV7nhUA52ztXJyGGY_60CFryIn3NtpgA0P11YNhziVYsookuV_4l-olm0XQCPfBF4K2mjThXHOsrF9zYOgGp4TqC6CFdHpGnF0tjzyN8-OjhyReqGaaLZ8OMvtSkFbpG7RTmW3Ef8/s1600/library+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TMgV7nhUA52ztXJyGGY_60CFryIn3NtpgA0P11YNhziVYsookuV_4l-olm0XQCPfBF4K2mjThXHOsrF9zYOgGp4TqC6CFdHpGnF0tjzyN8-OjhyReqGaaLZ8OMvtSkFbpG7RTmW3Ef8/s320/library+at+night.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Utterly evocative, but full of the pain <br />
of lost libraries and disappeared books .</td></tr>
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Even better, the book I was reading was Alberto Manguel’s
<i>The Library at Night</i>, with a cover illustration of a dark woods and a man in a
chair reading a book by lamplight.</div>
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But the question in my mind is, what is it about books
that is so comforting to some of us? I’m not talking so much about reading –
one can read in many types of media. As Manguel reveals in another title -<i> A
History of Reading</i> - the methods, entitlements, and habits of reading have
changed greatly over the course of written history. The outcry about the “loss
of books” to electronic media is misplaced. Electronic media provide reading:
printed ink-on-paper books provide a mystique in their sheer physical presence
that is not transmitted to cold plastic.</div>
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How to explain the feeling you get in a bookshop or a library
- public or private - where you are surrounded by printed volumes, of there
being something special there for you and you alone? Something waiting for you
to find it, or to find you by serendipity. The feeling that makes you say “ahhhhh”
when you step into the presence of a room filled with books. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEMXdRM-FYKnYmWXl2u4M7wgZoROxFwUvRwVg28j13xzIMyXziMeS8Ws85-JYLNP_GcSoKYyNSFEud4_ZjtcxeKVB8dNG3NIN6IOQYflnpO_EAex29fyALP_yMonUpQt5pWjdjIgxwGA/s1600/history+reading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEMXdRM-FYKnYmWXl2u4M7wgZoROxFwUvRwVg28j13xzIMyXziMeS8Ws85-JYLNP_GcSoKYyNSFEud4_ZjtcxeKVB8dNG3NIN6IOQYflnpO_EAex29fyALP_yMonUpQt5pWjdjIgxwGA/s320/history+reading.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wonderful book, full of surprises. </td></tr>
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To be sure, there are those who don’t experience this;
even those who appear to despise books. I have seen many decorating and
interior design books, television shows, and even magazine articles where
interior designers can’t bear the thought of colorful spines and dust jackets
cluttering up their theme or color scheme. Some go to ridiculous lengths to
disguise books, if they must remain in the room. They’ll cover them with plain
white wrappers (or worse, paint them!), or place them on the shelves by color
and size, or remove the dust jackets to display more uniformly plain spines, or
– worst of all – display the books fore-edge out . Lacking the chance to do any
of that, they’ll imprison the books behind doors. It’s an aesthetic, but to booklovers a very
wrong-headed and egotistical one. </div>
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The people who put themselves into the hands of these
designers claim that they want a “warm and inviting” atmosphere. Laying claim
to a room in which a gigantic flat-screen television becomes a focal point,
they seem happy with the result. One (who loves books) can only wonder how this
is possible. </div>
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To those of us for whom books are among life’s greatest
pleasures, those many-hued dust jacket spines on our own shelves are like the
faces of old familiar friends. One glance at such a book and one is reminded of
previous pleasures, or taken back to a moment in time fondly remembered, or
convinced that there is something more to be learned between those covers. The
emotions of previous encounters enter one again, even without touching the
book. </div>
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Bookshelves in a home speak volumes (literally) about the
owner. Entering a home with books for the first time, one gravitates
automatically to the shelves, scanning the spines for titles unfamiliar and
familiar, deducing mutual or unexpected interests from them. A home without books seems shallow and cold,
lacking somehow in personality. </div>
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Those of us with books under our skin cannot imagine a
time when electronic versions will suffice. They offer cold comfort at best.
The image of sitting alone on a stormy night with the glow of an electronic
screen for companionship simply does not convey the sense of safety and warmth
as does the alternative picture I painted in my initial paragraphs. Will there
be a time when it is enough? Not for me.</div>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-22326613686884531452012-01-10T15:09:00.000-08:002012-01-11T11:06:01.479-08:00How To Clean the Kitchen: A Soap Opera in Three Acts<br />
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ACT 1: The Slippery Slope</div>
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I stepped up to the kitchen sink one morning a couple of
weeks ago and my foot came down on something gooey and slippery. I looked down
and saw a white-ish gelatinous mass right at the hinge corner of the under-sink
cupboard door.</div>
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Puzzled, I thought perhaps my spouse had been pouring
something into the grease can and missed – but when I grabbed a dampened paper
towel and started to wipe at it, it foamed. </div>
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“Did we spill some liquid dish soap down here?” I asked
(diplomatically, I might add. Notice the “we.”)</div>
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“Not that I know of,” he said from the table where he was
munching his breakfast bagel. “Why?”</div>
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I opened the door to throw the soggy paper towel into the
trash, and spotted an equally gooey pile of the stuff next to the trash bin. Taking
a step off the foot mat, I found myself sliding across the floor. </div>
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“We have a problem,” I reported. I took off my house shoe
and limped to the bathroom, where I washed it in the sink and set it aside to
dry. </div>
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We had just put a new gallon-sized bottle of liquid soap
under the sink. It had sat on the garage pantry shelf for some time, and had
not exhibited any leaks. However, Gary pulled it out and we put it on a tray,
and sure enough it drooled some soap. We found a very small split in the
bottom. Somehow it had been set on something that poked a hole in it. </div>
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I had been saying for weeks that we needed to clean out
under the sink again – the liner was getting wrinkled and soiled and we hadn’t
cleaned to the back of the cupboard for some time. So Gary took everything out –
which included unscrewing and removing the slide-out trash bin and drawer, and
it got a thorough cleaning. </div>
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Be careful what you wish for!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5WWc9BAyxBxJUSJrFrZD9l-WZrg5mJGuIlhpMSdlBLAheF_Hz3SmSZiolUmspFEJ_FZVMGQZ7cDwRle6iD00OHP0yEAN_um-FoXg3DZ-DaIFDdnwc62a9uXUzSe6aI7IY2XLcxlKLwQ/s1600/refrigerator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5WWc9BAyxBxJUSJrFrZD9l-WZrg5mJGuIlhpMSdlBLAheF_Hz3SmSZiolUmspFEJ_FZVMGQZ7cDwRle6iD00OHP0yEAN_um-FoXg3DZ-DaIFDdnwc62a9uXUzSe6aI7IY2XLcxlKLwQ/s1600/refrigerator.jpg" /></a></div>
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ACT 2: Melt-Down</div>
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I had also been saying that I needed to clean out the
side-by-side freezer-refrigerator. So
last week we invited some friends about to depart the country for a few months for
a bon-voyage supper. We started out with some wine and snacks, and then as I
reached into the freezer for a final item in my supper preparation, I saw that
the ice compartment was dripping. I poked a package of frozen veggies and
discovered that it was getting soft. Uh-oh. </div>
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An image from an altered book. </div>
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I didn’t want to upset the dinner party, so I maintained
silence about the drips, but I found myself growing more and more anxious as the
evening wore on. As soon as we had wished our guests bon voyage and shut the
door, I said:</div>
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“We have a problem.” </div>
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Investigation revealed that the freezer was not working
and we rushed madly around to save the food. Of course I had been to the store
that morning – the one where I can save a lot of money on certain things, but
it’s at quite a distance from home so I go about every two months and stock up,
putting a lot of things in the upright freezer out in the garage. So we crammed
what we could in there. Fortunately, we had kept the fridge in the downstairs
kitchen that was my mother’s before she passed away – it has become the “beer
and backup” refrigerator so we filled the small top freezer in that. </div>
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We retired around midnight, hoping that the refrigerator
side was still working.</div>
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Morning light, and I checked the refrigerator. Nope, the
chill was departing from the fridge side, too. I stuck my head into the bedroom
where Gary was still snoozing, and said:</div>
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“We have a problem.” </div>
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There was another rush to remove the beer and sodas from
the downstairs fridge and load it with stuff from the kitchen. (Needless to
say, I pitched things from both the freezer and the fridge as we unloaded our
malfunctioning unit. Nothing had yet grown legs, but some of it was iffy.) </div>
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Gary made a call to Sears for a repairman, and obtained
an appointment made for the following day. I had already been online checking
out new refrigerators, and after some discussion we agreed that we should go
check some out “just in case” we had to replace ours.</div>
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In fact, we found one that we liked on sale – a French-door
bottom freezer unit that looked much more accommodating than the current one.
After a good deal of discussion over lunch, reciting our previous appliance
repair experiences in terms of both money and time, we decided to just buy the
new one before the sale was over (the following day in fact) and let them haul
away the dying monument to arctic failure. </div>
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So OK – it was an expensive way to clean out the fridge.
Be careful what you wish for. </div>
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ACT 3</div>
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I have been saying that I need to clean out the kitchen
pantry. Nothing has happened yet, but I have a feeling I should get to it
before it experiences spontaneous combustion or before something in there takes
on a life of its own. Meanwhile, I’m holding my tongue, careful for what I wish
for. </div>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-16669294054528809932012-01-01T18:43:00.000-08:002012-01-01T18:56:22.992-08:00My Soulless Shoes<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of Life’s Little Moments (that we’d like to forget) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With minor illustrations in Trade Cards </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8KaUfLD6tiQ/TwEYUKF201I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/8fzDD04shx4/s1600/trade+card+shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8KaUfLD6tiQ/TwEYUKF201I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/8fzDD04shx4/s400/trade+card+shoes.jpg" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some women buy shoes right and left. They need huge walk-in closets to store their footware. This always amazes me – my array of shoes fits neatly on a small rack in the bottom corner of my closet. It’s not that I don’t like shoes, or need shoes – it’s just that I have never accepted the cost of good shoes. There are so many other things that one could spend that money on, like books. I have never hesitated over the cost of a book if I had the money for it. Between the need to find a pair of shoes that are comfortable, attractive, and suitable support for a bad back, the cost just makes my head reel and my pocket book seal itself shut.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have been saying that I need a new pair of casual dress shoes – my current pair is falling apart. We were headed downtown to visit some favorite art galleries that were open one evening so I put on some “go to town” clothes. In Eugene, Oregon, that translates to “good jeans” and a blouse instead of a tee-shirt. Unless it’s a very nice tee shirt.) Noting the condition of my decrepit shoes, I dug out some older flats that looked as though they still had some good wear in them, slipped them on, and headed down the hall to get my coat. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The shoes made a funny swunchy on the hall floor. It wasn’t the usual squeak of rubber against wood. Squnch! Squnch! It was not like anything I had heard before, but since we had torn up the carpet and laid down new solid flooring recently, I figured it was normal for that kind of contact. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wQEK8kkQJLk/TwEYVZNiwWI/AAAAAAAAAcY/SMNRyjhdTMg/s1600/trade+card+shoes2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wQEK8kkQJLk/TwEYVZNiwWI/AAAAAAAAAcY/SMNRyjhdTMg/s400/trade+card+shoes2.jpg" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As we walked around town, though, I noticed that the sole of my shoe seemed a bit loose, but I figured that it would last at least for the rest of the evening.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We stopped in at a favorite gallery, where I became absorbed in a display and I didn’t pay too much attention when the owner dove into the back room and dashed back out with a dustpan and whisk broom and brushed furiously at something on the floor. I figured that someone had probably dropped a cracker and stepped on it. But then she came along behind me and did it again….and then again, muttering, “What is this stuff? Mud or something?”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At which point I checked the bottoms of my shoes, only to discover that they were disintegrating. Apparently they were a composite that was decomposing (which reminds me of the joke about Mozart’s tomb, but you know that one) in big chunks and smaller crumbs. I apologized fervently, removed my shoes, and limped to the door.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d show you a picture but I threw them away the minute we got home. I still haven’t bought a new pair although I have looked around a bit. But I’m going to have to wait for the sticker shock to wear off. Meanwhile, I wonder if I can dress up my Crocs to pass for evening wear? </span>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-89668143399380717242011-12-18T19:04:00.000-08:002011-12-18T19:10:17.898-08:00Culinary Ephemera - The Book<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0t-F3yhawZ3Wlv-PefKnpbQEfGVYfh5zWWTG301faBxrWO4IP7vlyz6dj1MlAiUtB-ykKUU0CDD45Fucnk8N8keJ4W6i0TtY0ctXYiRxrxwNkIger5PvG9neHhbyWedfg-LPH275g6w/s1600/book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0t-F3yhawZ3Wlv-PefKnpbQEfGVYfh5zWWTG301faBxrWO4IP7vlyz6dj1MlAiUtB-ykKUU0CDD45Fucnk8N8keJ4W6i0TtY0ctXYiRxrxwNkIger5PvG9neHhbyWedfg-LPH275g6w/s200/book.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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I walked into Borders just before they closed to purchase some shelving, and of course I had a look at the remaining books. It was sad, sad, sad to see such a bright and capacious bookstore closing, and little of interest was left on the shelves. But by some kind of serendipity, there was one copy left of William Woys Weaver’s book, <i>Culinary Ephemera: An Illustrated History. </i></div>
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To be honest, I hadn’t heard of it even though it was published in 2010. Naturally I swept it off the shelf (the word “ephemera” is magical to me, of course.) With a pause at the cash register it became mine, and I’m very pleased with it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFwPyENoSdY1V2y-wiCMoVC2x6VQNtxMLbO5V-vvtUNV2QJb-fHd_iQXfCXWDlMInt91YV39lW1jSNt3QD8weltmlVTtHQRoN8sRFVi652kwzFh0IBcAME395TxD-3W3-Ccb0Pzyj_UQ/s1600/kilpatricks+bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFwPyENoSdY1V2y-wiCMoVC2x6VQNtxMLbO5V-vvtUNV2QJb-fHd_iQXfCXWDlMInt91YV39lW1jSNt3QD8weltmlVTtHQRoN8sRFVi652kwzFh0IBcAME395TxD-3W3-Ccb0Pzyj_UQ/s200/kilpatricks+bread.jpg" width="109" /></a></div>
This is not a price guide, and unlike other books on cooking materials it is not primarily about cookbooks and booklets. In fact, it leaves cookbooks out altogether and instead focuses on what is truly ephemera – booklets to be sure, but also almanacs, menus, handbills, labels, sheet music, trade cards – even postcards, match book covers, valentines and more. This brought categories to my attention that I hadn’t even thought of. <br />
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This Kilpatrick's Bread booklet from 1922 attempts to glamorize bread with recipes for sandwiches, various toast treatments, breaded meats, and "mock duck."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEishV2Kk4Ag8M3WPoKdtW2ljDO46gkCCKkBuQpwwYczxLe5_6JfAIZHJZgGKLx1rtvoNv5U94PkiN2rbv7SpzGBumzw8M-DG5oD1aJOy2mc-dd044DEwGVfKpSIrLZyzthbZBQ7AEf2IcU/s1600/billhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEishV2Kk4Ag8M3WPoKdtW2ljDO46gkCCKkBuQpwwYczxLe5_6JfAIZHJZgGKLx1rtvoNv5U94PkiN2rbv7SpzGBumzw8M-DG5oD1aJOy2mc-dd044DEwGVfKpSIrLZyzthbZBQ7AEf2IcU/s200/billhead.jpg" width="136" /></a></div>
The best part of the book, however, is the way in which Weaver uses the ephemera to describe the attitudes, prejudices, and social and economic values and changes in American culture over the decades. And he not only includes cooking, but just about anything relating to food, culinary advertising, and kitchen appliances and processes. <br />
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This billhead is from True & Blandchard: Hardware, Tinware, Stoves, Cuttlery and Notions (Newport, Vermont) and is dated 1894.</div>
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The above cancelled checks are from (1) the O.A. Harlan & Co. Packer of Dried Fruits (San Jose CA) dated 1922 in the amount of 22.00; and John Batto & Sons: Wholesale Produce Shippers (San Francisco, CA) dated 1907 in the amount of $100.00. Both are illustrated with images of company facilities. </div>
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Much cooking ephemera is bright, colorful, and appealing, since most of it is advertising that attempts to draw attention to itself and the products it promotes. Canned asparagus could, in fact, only look appealing on paper! White or not.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQLP7a9rkNg8S1W7U7tsOerjamUoxU7_6nep_YFN9e8DoDa-LtO9RJegLA21yKS3eShBLCngWqc1N1me0QSgrIbgka8KqWRm6vRfmlMArd55lPjaX6LMJJNtzqtBIieMZx3h45GSKcJw/s1600/mrs+dewey+jello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQLP7a9rkNg8S1W7U7tsOerjamUoxU7_6nep_YFN9e8DoDa-LtO9RJegLA21yKS3eShBLCngWqc1N1me0QSgrIbgka8KqWRm6vRfmlMArd55lPjaX6LMJJNtzqtBIieMZx3h45GSKcJw/s320/mrs+dewey+jello.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
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Cooking ephmera has long been a prized collectible for its visual and graphic appeal, but this book lays out some more profound reasons for collecting these oddments of everyday life. Even if your only interest is in the history of American food culture, it is well worth reading. And after looking at the lively images reproduced in the book, it is difficult not to add culinary ephemera to your collecting interests. <br />
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A label for Mountain Brand Cherries, Salem Oregon. The "modern" maraschino cherry was, in fact, developed at Oregon State Agricultural College (now Oregon State University) in nearby Corvallis. In a bid against imported Italian cherries - and with an abundant cherry production in need of a market - one Prof. Ernest Wiegand worked for several years to perfect the product. A building on the OSU campus bears the name Weigand hall, and they are so proud of this bit of history that there is a class offered <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">(Maraschino Cherry 102) which examines the "historical, technological and scientific aspects of</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">maraschino cherry production." Well....yes.</span><br />
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The only thing that saves me is being an ephemera dealer – I can take pleasure in enhancing the collections of others rather than trying to archive and maintain a collection of my own.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBxCe0WU7E_wj_KLPL_CZCAGXa1PoJ5Jt58A3NyAG9YGxzcu9863EeDTeNjnOOOos6BCCrxInTi7Mv1Zq564vJrw_A7I9pSaH9RoQhIFBfgQlxdGS6t8W70yrTXKD3MmkaNIwTRwnVyw/s1600/chocolate+soldier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBxCe0WU7E_wj_KLPL_CZCAGXa1PoJ5Jt58A3NyAG9YGxzcu9863EeDTeNjnOOOos6BCCrxInTi7Mv1Zq564vJrw_A7I9pSaH9RoQhIFBfgQlxdGS6t8W70yrTXKD3MmkaNIwTRwnVyw/s320/chocolate+soldier.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
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Even sheet music, plays, and other images can be related to food - this is a program for the opening night performance of "The Chocolate Soldier" - which also promises some "spice."EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-68236923958755272072011-12-13T13:08:00.000-08:002011-12-13T17:53:19.835-08:00Christmas Images 1 – The Comforts of Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0GNmOi8CF6SJEowruGaWOAp-FSNYcIqTYwsZA72t0cuFVV01q2rytN_rA3bUWFyewsIY7Sir6L2lnRvJxtBKtE_GdTu7WMocnLcGW0xU49G_H331Uy1XIpOVWZAGC4aNro6K4-BIprY/s1600/window.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685723325023128882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0GNmOi8CF6SJEowruGaWOAp-FSNYcIqTYwsZA72t0cuFVV01q2rytN_rA3bUWFyewsIY7Sir6L2lnRvJxtBKtE_GdTu7WMocnLcGW0xU49G_H331Uy1XIpOVWZAGC4aNro6K4-BIprY/s320/window.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 202px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 201px;" /></a><br />
The other evening we lit a fire in the fireplace for the first time this year. Baby, it was cold outside. Well, we didn’t really need the fire for warmth but somehow it seems very comforting during the dark cold months of the year. There must be something in our more primitive biological memory that responds to the crackle and pop of the wood and the dancing flames. <br />
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“It’s comforting,” I said. “Cozy. Reassuring. Homey.”<br />
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That’s a theme that is frequently conveyed by Christmas cards that feature snug cottages in the snow, smoke rising from the chimneys or windows that suggest light and warmth inside. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuy6Qk8-_Kac8_yho3HPVji8d3wmEBSo2qqIGbcy1JKb5mv9pKi_p8AYzYrqpBZG753u3qd-tbkgep1aFZmw1oh1m_Wl2PS2YIbl6TmvU_o2lOGUSRD9nqs-3ZI6vy7_nHmGuDPeWGts/s1600/smoking+chimneys.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685724127428718786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuy6Qk8-_Kac8_yho3HPVji8d3wmEBSo2qqIGbcy1JKb5mv9pKi_p8AYzYrqpBZG753u3qd-tbkgep1aFZmw1oh1m_Wl2PS2YIbl6TmvU_o2lOGUSRD9nqs-3ZI6vy7_nHmGuDPeWGts/s320/smoking+chimneys.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 257px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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A review of the book <em>American Christmas Cards 1900-1960</em>, by Kenneth L. Ames, a professor of American decorative arts at the Bard Graduate Center in New York City where an exhibit is currently on display, mentions this and other interpretations of Christmas cards over the first six decades of the 20th Century. (I have ordered but not yet received the book.) <br />
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I usually describe my ephemera business as “cultural history,” adding that I try to find things that reveal the everyday life (rather than sociological studies) of our past. The history books do not convey all of the nuances of our social attitudes and priorities as they changed over time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnFwwljzY-piFsn4Hi2ytog3lc7sc-8TKZgQCZWp9cUoQ8h32oT3lnKk3wgq9bAz6CRdbqPD2qP-lQonN9M207sm0henCQVuTGjyvj-efJGIN7GOgv5gUFvEu6r7r3UlmR3TeTTBr1wj4/s1600/carolers.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685723647047997554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnFwwljzY-piFsn4Hi2ytog3lc7sc-8TKZgQCZWp9cUoQ8h32oT3lnKk3wgq9bAz6CRdbqPD2qP-lQonN9M207sm0henCQVuTGjyvj-efJGIN7GOgv5gUFvEu6r7r3UlmR3TeTTBr1wj4/s320/carolers.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 189px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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A group of carolers – smoke rising from the cozy homes behind them – convey a feeling of cheer and goodwill, of friendship and sharing. <br />
Drawing together in the warmth of the fire is, again, a basic human need in times past, and an image to which we respond in the present. It used to mean survival of individuals and the species. Now it can encourage survival of our spirits and our sense of ease and comfort. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W9Bm2wE2oGDqP-er6jxlTwbltV74tIFXbxb-WQyEso_Tp6UNkbGkoPXwOtHdpzLLNs8JeiN1ap_wJVBsoVy4e0JjzB36LOFpQLSqM-Lq5pXfeHcYgdDZG9Ne2qPFEnXuPcAi3plsuSA/s1600/house+in+snow.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685724541294900562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W9Bm2wE2oGDqP-er6jxlTwbltV74tIFXbxb-WQyEso_Tp6UNkbGkoPXwOtHdpzLLNs8JeiN1ap_wJVBsoVy4e0JjzB36LOFpQLSqM-Lq5pXfeHcYgdDZG9Ne2qPFEnXuPcAi3plsuSA/s320/house+in+snow.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 301px;" /></a><br />
The cards featured here are from c. 1930s. I have never found a particular name for this graphic style – Moderne is sometimes used, although it gets confused with Streamline Moderne of the 1950s. And yet it is a big step away from the Art Deco era that preceded it. Since it so often features these stylized little bungalows, I usually refer to it as “Cottage Moderne,” but that’s a personal designation. If anyone knows a better term, please speak up. Perhaps the book will have a suggestion.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-3830961676417034972011-12-02T23:22:00.000-08:002011-12-02T23:26:23.980-08:00Ephemeral Word for the Day: Esculent<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARNw00egqy2DO2UymSHRGhnYLAzYjOp7N2ZP3qSH7j9glvE4O0Tu-2motXcz_o0QGLVEbMnCRKlKCGGQ0EfkkwIif8ftXL3VCWQRSL8H_EKsQvPi9baX7ebvBzY5M3lCpeKQHDGuPUA8/s1600/Prince%2527s+Nurseries.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 188px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARNw00egqy2DO2UymSHRGhnYLAzYjOp7N2ZP3qSH7j9glvE4O0Tu-2motXcz_o0QGLVEbMnCRKlKCGGQ0EfkkwIif8ftXL3VCWQRSL8H_EKsQvPi9baX7ebvBzY5M3lCpeKQHDGuPUA8/s320/Prince%2527s+Nurseries.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681799980445100370" /></a><br /><br />Ephemera does require some research, and sometimes it takes one down strange and esoteric roads. Sometimes it just contains a pebble that one feels obliged to pick up and turn over speculatively…then attempt to identify.<br /><br />In this case, I picked up an old advertising leaflet from Prince’s Nurseries, Flushing, New York, dated October 1, 1856 and titled “Chinese Potato: Dioscorea Batatas, Imperial Rice-White Variety.” I wasn’t too sure what a “Chinese potato” might be and so I started to read this advertisement with its somewhat extravagant claims. <br /><br />Right off the bat it describes the product as an “inestimable esculent.” Okay, two things to find out. What is a Chinese potato, and what is an esculent? <br /><br />The claims for the inestimable esculent contain some superlatives, including “…this combination of every useful property renders it the greatest vegetable boon ever granted by God to man, and that its introduction to our country is even more important than that of Cotton, and that in twenty years our National statistics will report the value of the annual crop as <em>greater than the Cotton crop</em>.” This nurseryman, identified as Wm. R. Prince, goes on to state, “…I assert that this plant alone has served to solve the enigma as to the alimentary basis of the Chinese empire, and that a statistical investigation will prove, that if that country were deprived of this one vertical root, and received in lieu every other known vegetable, more than one half of its enormous population would perish from famine.” Well, note that he said a statistical investigation WILL prove, not that there had been one. <br /><br />Prince does not mince words. Further on he supports his claims by asserting, “The statements pretending to emanate from the Farmers’ Club of the American Institute, last Spring, unfavorable to this plant, were <em>barefaced forgeries</em>, made from malicious motives.” <br /><br />What a lot of fuss, even for an inestimable esculent. <br /><br />Other statements in the ad led me to believe that this vegetable must be some kind of yam, which indeed it is- although I can’t say that anyone has become wealthy from growing it, nor has it attained the popularity suggested by Prince. It seems to be on the order of the sweet potato, with light-colored flesh. (And some forms of which classified as weeds.)<br /><br />As for esculent, it turns out to be a somewhat archaic – although certainly useful – word meaning “fit to be eaten” or “edible.” It could be a nice distinction, especially when differentiating between two species of a plant, one of which is edible and one poisonous, as with the camas. In fact, in the <em>Journals of Lewis and Clark</em> Meriwether Lewis writes, “Many of those plants produce those esculent roots which form a principal part of the subsistence of the natives.”<br /><br />I’ll admit a decided fondness for garnet yams (those with the deep orange color). They don’t require much to make them truly estimable esculents. (Can you see that on a menu? “Estimable esculents in butter sauce with sea salt.” Yum.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-67891048297536688382011-11-13T18:51:00.000-08:002011-11-13T19:34:05.295-08:00Graveyard humor and a Misale<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6VhmXa1q2nTQyTQfCwvVDIFq4yGwOP8dU3cBjPi5A5aYQPJbnKLgxg4_77eWxSyAm6I-f3awPTFbQyF_S6CTe35Wiu01n8xrg2vxFU51yiq5nQfRV_mt48p_Qc1YyvA5T6_txpsiv_Y/s1600/misale.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6VhmXa1q2nTQyTQfCwvVDIFq4yGwOP8dU3cBjPi5A5aYQPJbnKLgxg4_77eWxSyAm6I-f3awPTFbQyF_S6CTe35Wiu01n8xrg2vxFU51yiq5nQfRV_mt48p_Qc1YyvA5T6_txpsiv_Y/s320/misale.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674684064987601858" /></a><br /><br /><br />D. Hillson published this series of epitaphs on postcards in 1907, but I haven’t been able to find out anything about the publisher or the set. The first one I saw – many years ago – was the “Listen: Mother Aunt and Me…” which contains the word “misale.” (Not to mention poor grammar!) The word puzzled me, and it does still. I can’t find reference to it, not even in my unabridged Webster’s nor in the full set of Oxford English Dictionary (nor the supplements) on my library shelves. One can assume that it means something on the order of “misjudged” but who among you can find the true definition and source? <br /><br />For some reason our species has enjoyed this rather macabre form of humor for centuries. What is the attraction? Perhaps it is because we, among all species on Earth, are aware of our mortality. Knowing that each of us will eventually die, perhaps we have this need to thumb our noses at Death. Not to mention the desire – sometimes realized on actual headstones – to have the last word. <br /><br />I let the postcards speak for themselves. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4Js7tT9jLo5EgugGXOUUZBx1YGdFVF7v7TwQP6ML5zx41lxH4q8NhXB6YK3a5WSE3Dhi3C0kgfXT_oHrtxn9SAlePet6wm_vpSGDOSgmg4NcU2M4eTohzpwoEQPQIuX90bxkpJhOsME/s1600/back+to+back.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ4Js7tT9jLo5EgugGXOUUZBx1YGdFVF7v7TwQP6ML5zx41lxH4q8NhXB6YK3a5WSE3Dhi3C0kgfXT_oHrtxn9SAlePet6wm_vpSGDOSgmg4NcU2M4eTohzpwoEQPQIuX90bxkpJhOsME/s320/back+to+back.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674686425515733890" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO65XHWYdWpCM49BHXxEQkO9xywukSv9bTv6PlA9WZmSHTUW7T2s2NNvRk4CMQv3ryb2TxI5QG1YpinwczUps9AQk5GaGUGVB6l7jZHr6TUvGrZRFSmfWVAG3DTIvNFCXMqrLOhO0aZZo/s1600/jim+shaw.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO65XHWYdWpCM49BHXxEQkO9xywukSv9bTv6PlA9WZmSHTUW7T2s2NNvRk4CMQv3ryb2TxI5QG1YpinwczUps9AQk5GaGUGVB6l7jZHr6TUvGrZRFSmfWVAG3DTIvNFCXMqrLOhO0aZZo/s320/jim+shaw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674686721070918674" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPHmZ-3pDrLxlr35BjnBIbX9n-ImV_dVSeo3jCspvb3C1xP8WBrxhlqOtSj3j8f-AZ64gzTVpH4T3dc8Q4eKpwyIX4ziw6mpESmO3GSRRiABEInUwAbo_QPIU9MTLmUSPqI7U3bi-3F0/s1600/knee.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPHmZ-3pDrLxlr35BjnBIbX9n-ImV_dVSeo3jCspvb3C1xP8WBrxhlqOtSj3j8f-AZ64gzTVpH4T3dc8Q4eKpwyIX4ziw6mpESmO3GSRRiABEInUwAbo_QPIU9MTLmUSPqI7U3bi-3F0/s320/knee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674687561575192626" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlEhoWdfllfBBsPYtEvYEQKce4PanKp1cR27AHrQ6GNdMJ5ZS_LGf1fBYcOqpOcNzCR2lngtyS6fn1EnzmSJelfegpSNCmjTDm_zLxbeLN3Pp8VUEGxPG0CYpNSSj_-HjF_gM_yUsfj88/s1600/stingy.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlEhoWdfllfBBsPYtEvYEQKce4PanKp1cR27AHrQ6GNdMJ5ZS_LGf1fBYcOqpOcNzCR2lngtyS6fn1EnzmSJelfegpSNCmjTDm_zLxbeLN3Pp8VUEGxPG0CYpNSSj_-HjF_gM_yUsfj88/s320/stingy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674687946185334898" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6U1_T3svfHRbGlMINHrVE-ur7vYrNkZsZC9gjsJgVApWfq7EnZOz6z93BZNVcQgxBfiHo_fZ0ege9lafNYvFu-iX2RQ1KRW4wQVl7YL5bybLarTTe1c8eIXOj0KZrDBBuuD3_RIv6je8/s1600/twenty-one.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6U1_T3svfHRbGlMINHrVE-ur7vYrNkZsZC9gjsJgVApWfq7EnZOz6z93BZNVcQgxBfiHo_fZ0ege9lafNYvFu-iX2RQ1KRW4wQVl7YL5bybLarTTe1c8eIXOj0KZrDBBuuD3_RIv6je8/s320/twenty-one.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674688573492320098" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIZWdXckZOHySszVH00FrhfY-7_qguZFq-KHQry-2Aw_Y2UzTO1fUQ4JNFN35x913AzX7WBnQXTbajXyUM0a4ICLGEBO_ZUCcWAtrJHg7vyO_bQE1zccHo9Gj1ieaMF7dvk1OUoNFDnA/s1600/stones.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIZWdXckZOHySszVH00FrhfY-7_qguZFq-KHQry-2Aw_Y2UzTO1fUQ4JNFN35x913AzX7WBnQXTbajXyUM0a4ICLGEBO_ZUCcWAtrJHg7vyO_bQE1zccHo9Gj1ieaMF7dvk1OUoNFDnA/s320/stones.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674688287301901874" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghKl3QdBObafrfUenTdNrb5WEpLdPzTOL3JfBFEAd7sTuj30uT7H41e1a30hmiW05aledDbadzyszmph7UaxyorUgWTM1ZFuiE3w-n4x8Xh8AUAMF-WQSY7xj00vzaoRnJvEmhyIH9fg/s1600/wood+in+wood.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghKl3QdBObafrfUenTdNrb5WEpLdPzTOL3JfBFEAd7sTuj30uT7H41e1a30hmiW05aledDbadzyszmph7UaxyorUgWTM1ZFuiE3w-n4x8Xh8AUAMF-WQSY7xj00vzaoRnJvEmhyIH9fg/s320/wood+in+wood.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674688887988936834" /></a><br /><br />Sorry the layout is so sloppy! Dang HTML is hard to put in place.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-77098770649991768052011-03-22T18:11:00.000-07:002011-03-22T18:19:41.917-07:00What do these three books have in common?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0VHb-MByvyA8kXqjgjxulj8JmIPehEwgRAqhwi2j7hNYN5Mav7i17BWTYkGQ_85cTDu03p9cPi5Fk6p_ZM-PRX-Wq2cohHNAYSgyq6tVLanUkaXpQYercUj1soSHlTpNiE6nse1H9M8/s1600/tears.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0VHb-MByvyA8kXqjgjxulj8JmIPehEwgRAqhwi2j7hNYN5Mav7i17BWTYkGQ_85cTDu03p9cPi5Fk6p_ZM-PRX-Wq2cohHNAYSgyq6tVLanUkaXpQYercUj1soSHlTpNiE6nse1H9M8/s320/tears.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587078089268041938" /></a><br />A while back I wrote about the synchronicity of finding a common thread in the diverse books one reads. So I recently finished Bill Bryson’s <em>I’m a Stranger Here Myself</em>, Byron Rogers' <em>The Green Lane to Nowhere</em>, and Alexander McCall Smith’s <em>Tears of the Giraffe</em>. <br /><br />The first is a series of essays that Bryson wrote for a British newspaper when he moved back to the United States with his English wife and children after living in England for 20 years. <em>The Green Lane </em>is a writer’s life in an English Village. (And no, that’s not the thread.) <em>The Tears of The Giraffe </em>is a title in the "No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency" series.<br /><br />The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency novels are set in Botswana, where Precious Ramotswe (a woman of traditional figure, according to her) investigates the usual domestic situations, as well as local mysteries, from the unexplained appearance of a pumpkin to a missing American and various other matters. Precious has a sensitivity and intuition that often inform her solutions. Smith, a white Botswana, obviously loves the country, the culture, and the people. In this novel, both Mma Ramotswe and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni (her husband, but always referred to thus even by Precious) lament the loss of old-fashioned cultural values, traditions, etiquette, neighborliness, etc. in the face of modern “progress.” And this is where we find our theme – the loss of culture and community.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit16FCYNjv-NxTygdysFk6c2NMbOsa67g-0I2835TLF30C49-2Ex20z8cMQDqOd6LnhP7nT7vx5NZRrTFlZidHI4D0Wrypl5xO1dvk-7AqVZJ4yy6CrBNVUAugVoDBO7UvLyGPw9Sp_iA/s1600/stranger.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit16FCYNjv-NxTygdysFk6c2NMbOsa67g-0I2835TLF30C49-2Ex20z8cMQDqOd6LnhP7nT7vx5NZRrTFlZidHI4D0Wrypl5xO1dvk-7AqVZJ4yy6CrBNVUAugVoDBO7UvLyGPw9Sp_iA/s320/stranger.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587078328076878002" /></a><br />Bryson nails it with his essays on an America that has changed much even in the time he has been gone. Neighborhoods, he says, are no longer communities. You may know your nearest neighbors, but you usually have very little in common. Gone are the small communities where everyone not only knew, but supported each other, where neighbors came together in times of need, helped each other, watched out for each other’s children. Shopping areas have become faceless malls, local businesses have withered under the onslaught of chain and discount stores. As for common courtesies, even their memory is fading. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76WgKBrcTQXZ6Tsz8RcP5GOPva860dx8TXv5AywHvj9JISkxWXtFC7HmXk4VXhZiUlHfx9DnOQSICGPLclycmUJ3CMdXFwZnVJ_Zhy-V52ycKFoHGleDYZbg3EKE0XsB0iVhEgcSN03M/s1600/greenlane.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi76WgKBrcTQXZ6Tsz8RcP5GOPva860dx8TXv5AywHvj9JISkxWXtFC7HmXk4VXhZiUlHfx9DnOQSICGPLclycmUJ3CMdXFwZnVJ_Zhy-V52ycKFoHGleDYZbg3EKE0XsB0iVhEgcSN03M/s320/greenlane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587078620339198818" /></a><br /><br />Rogers echoes this subject in this very interesting and amusing book which is, again, drawn from columns published in a British newspaper, this time <em>The Sunday Telegraph</em>. Writing about his small village in geographically strategic Northamtonshire, Rogers tracks the region’s early history, pointing out, for instance, that the current A5 highway traces the path of an ancient Roman road. But throughout he mourns the loss of community, stating that “city people” have bought up most of his village’s real estate for weekend retreats, pricing the locals out of the neighborhood. He muses on this as the village clears out after the weekend, leaving a handful of permanent residents during the week. A man in a tavern is mourning not only the loss of a parent, but of the tradition that once brought neighbors to the homes of bereaved families, bearing food and comfort. Most of the small community traditions and observations have been forgotten.<br /><br />Some will call this progress, but each of these authors suggests that the world could be a better place with a little bit of return to some of the traditional ways of caring for each other, of respecting each other, of aiding each other in times of crisis, of forming communities of common interests and vesting in common welfare; even of just plain politeness. I’m convinced that most of us who remember some of the earlier ways mourn in similar fashion. The question is, what are we going to do about it?EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-89018377977614569692011-02-16T15:25:00.000-08:002011-02-16T15:44:23.067-08:00The Creepiest Postcard I Have Ever SeenOver the years I have handled many types of postcard, from the earliest chromolithograph cards offering scenes, greetings, sites, events such as World Fairs and expositions, and on through the eras of photography, color printing, and linens. <br /><br />I have seen postcards made of cactus wood, celluloid, redwood, leather, burlap, embroidered silk and other materials. Many cards were made that incorporated elements such as feathers, ribbons, bows, buttons, “rolling” eyes, horsehair tails, fur, plant materials, etc. There have been puzzle cards, transformation cards, “hold-to-light” cards, and other gimmicks. <br /><br />Just about any subject under the sun has been stuck on a postcard! But in all that, ONE stands out as the weirdest, creepiest, oddest card I have seen. I have kept it just because it is such a puzzle. It is an image of a cat, mailed in 1910 and probably produced around that time.<br /><br />Of course, cats have always been popular as subject-matter, as much as they are today. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmoERdJskm3X8OSCZ8Uk8pRokeSDKdxO9h9RspHrXEfkEO_RtARm1hbQ0FTTo8aw1jXP6p6sOx004_D6HI0vjMQkGCAkSzjh49thYiryzgKmgfVeVktaQGWjypOKtSRz9BNRcLNLh9Lmg/s1600/cat1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmoERdJskm3X8OSCZ8Uk8pRokeSDKdxO9h9RspHrXEfkEO_RtARm1hbQ0FTTo8aw1jXP6p6sOx004_D6HI0vjMQkGCAkSzjh49thYiryzgKmgfVeVktaQGWjypOKtSRz9BNRcLNLh9Lmg/s320/cat1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574433348194916674" /></a><br /><br />Some were sweet, like a colorful chromo-lithograph card of kittens mailed from Toledo, Ohio, in 1911. <br /><br /><br /><br />Photographers loved the subject, as a photo card of two kittens and straw hat from the Rotograph Co. with a copyright date of 1905 demonstrates.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlBZdyQPRyMcEr3KAbMbcPNXQUzP_QvwYMZMbd5PrkUMHdCs84ljMsoVeI_qnDTbj-SLMcBXl0o3q6JSCcLH-p5TZPi7eCNFth5dyaPZPUmbWUE7hpcaKbN-0_pGzXp8NPh-FmKiQqug/s1600/cats2photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 193px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlBZdyQPRyMcEr3KAbMbcPNXQUzP_QvwYMZMbd5PrkUMHdCs84ljMsoVeI_qnDTbj-SLMcBXl0o3q6JSCcLH-p5TZPi7eCNFth5dyaPZPUmbWUE7hpcaKbN-0_pGzXp8NPh-FmKiQqug/s320/cats2photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574436408974436914" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /> Cultural biases notwithstanding, a black cat with googly eyes purports to be a “good luck mascot” on a card mailed in 1915. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nb6KptcC9Ts8bXQxUtz1eCf57UcUiU_-L-Ct-43JzyFq7aWpqYMW_6haAXTSD_pEPka3O3LJ2XB2vDVAGRCkk-X9QgDvkFpVckdk2lp1jUCZAYtZ3AWfIF6JuFyGLP7LVnE5YHsQTc4/s1600/cats3black.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nb6KptcC9Ts8bXQxUtz1eCf57UcUiU_-L-Ct-43JzyFq7aWpqYMW_6haAXTSD_pEPka3O3LJ2XB2vDVAGRCkk-X9QgDvkFpVckdk2lp1jUCZAYtZ3AWfIF6JuFyGLP7LVnE5YHsQTc4/s320/cats3black.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574434955207563074" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQbpdZMzoop40Q3E6nbM5EzUX5-TlGcLcsqfb2rmGj_zLM_554YgCb0TSqAL9nZjHTUEmor5CURn4_-Q9zRUN8m8w0XRBhtl56A8_ZaZ4UbkqlIgUz5t6uA9nZF8RqMtOySqA5gaU_14/s1600/cats4evil.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQbpdZMzoop40Q3E6nbM5EzUX5-TlGcLcsqfb2rmGj_zLM_554YgCb0TSqAL9nZjHTUEmor5CURn4_-Q9zRUN8m8w0XRBhtl56A8_ZaZ4UbkqlIgUz5t6uA9nZF8RqMtOySqA5gaU_14/s320/cats4evil.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574435410842843826" /></a> But there is just no explanation for this evil-looking cat dressed as a woman, and with the caption, “There is’nt [sic] an honest man living. I hate ‘em all.” The publishing information is K.V.I.B, 12 “serie 1255” on a divided back. I can’t find much information about this company, which seemed to be fairly prolific in production at the turn of the century. The card was no doubt printed in Germany. It was mailed in 1910, somewhere in Eastern Washington, probably Tacoma. (The cancellation is only partial, although “T” is visible and the sender describes having gone to Yakima for dental work.) She sent the card to her sister in Broken Bow, Nebraska. <br /><br />There is no indication of the artist, although he or she must have been somewhat – um – odd to have produced this message and image. I had thought that it might be by Louis Wain, a postcard artist whose schizophrenia caused him to create some devilish cats later in his career, but a Wain collector has assured me that this is not his work. Perhaps it was an attempt to imitate him. The cat itself looks rather evil, with fangs visible, ears like devil horns, and glassy, staring eyes. I do love the effect of the tail thrown over the arm, the only bit of comic relief on the entire card. I still find it very, very creepy though.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-66638200090875792852011-01-30T14:19:00.000-08:002011-01-30T14:21:24.746-08:00A Book That Explores the Altered Heart<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjk0i1MDQqJRAupMszC-Z3V5H04CZEfgzB4ra7RWgQ19sZPB7nTb8qW2qRzigG9nwjQKOKfB1gtsiPCvvUVZmTCkMeoxDw0aHWE9_LmegNN7VBPtp3hIcpUhpcliMfmSrBP9IR2kNUW8/s1600/atmaking.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjk0i1MDQqJRAupMszC-Z3V5H04CZEfgzB4ra7RWgQ19sZPB7nTb8qW2qRzigG9nwjQKOKfB1gtsiPCvvUVZmTCkMeoxDw0aHWE9_LmegNN7VBPtp3hIcpUhpcliMfmSrBP9IR2kNUW8/s320/atmaking.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568107546230028514" /></a><br />For all of us who do artwork with “repurposed” materials, it is sometimes hard to explain the sticks, stones, bark and bones; the rusty thing-a-jigs and discarded parts and things picked up in parking lots; the packaging and papers and ratty old books and labels and tickets and….well, all of it. Dubbed “packrats” and “magpies,” we excuse our mania in the name of art, but the little tides of guilt as spouses complain of overflow and friends try to reassure themselves that we are just a little bit sane still sweep over us from time to time.<br /><br />Now here is a book that offers not only forgiveness, but which also commends our ardor and eggs us on:<br /><br />Art Making – Collections and Obsessions: An Intimate Exploration of the Mixed-Media Work and Collections of 35 Artists, by Lynne Perrella. <br /><br />Most of us can only aspire to such “collections,” but the ones in this book are bound to inspire new heights of mania in those of us already touched with the “gift” of seeing beauty in discarded things. While the work of every artist will not appeal to everyone, there is such a wide variety of artistic vocabularies, methods, and themes that there is a lot to appeal to anyone. Seeing how others gather and harvest and organize or store their materials is bound to inspire. <br /><br />Best of all, we find ourselves in very good company. We no longer have to cringe when someone says “but WHY do you have all this stuff?” or “what do you DO with it?” or worst of all, when a spouse inquires, “what are you going to use it for?” Now we simply wave this book at them and shout THIS! THIS!<br /><br />Feels good.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-7762416721908630802011-01-11T18:48:00.000-08:002011-01-11T19:03:19.885-08:00Will Bradley Kicked off the 20th Century in Style!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ytN8muAPx1MbSsBOl5Um9f2ax9cwD-jGgn93FqYjmzoUYSrUK-xW_0hVNSVWSGTkQc2V7OUgbelCoM9K02kTZtPypGDYB6pjqHWuZykZiHXFpVwXdJOkW8EvVfR8wudoicAPKNQ5xew/s1600/fringilla.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ytN8muAPx1MbSsBOl5Um9f2ax9cwD-jGgn93FqYjmzoUYSrUK-xW_0hVNSVWSGTkQc2V7OUgbelCoM9K02kTZtPypGDYB6pjqHWuZykZiHXFpVwXdJOkW8EvVfR8wudoicAPKNQ5xew/s320/fringilla.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561126467500124642" /></a><br /><br /><br />Born in Boston, Massachusetts in 1868, William H. Bradley was already working as a printer by the time he was 12 years old. A man of many talents, he worked as a wood engraver, typographer, publisher, editor, illustrator, poster artist, type designer, book artist, film art supervisor, designer, and he even designed several family homes. <br /><br />Often compared to Aubrey Beardsley, Bradley developed a style that drew from the Arts & Crafts movement and William Morris, Japanese woodblock prints, and he is often credited with developing and popularizing the Art Nouveau style in America. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekVdA-1rdoG768-6Ax173MbrG05um2Qd8HHW6UUEyoTxP8SGscvWL5EyNmebPvpCJv8Kop089fYXBMmC_RfgS5sFP-p3zLvTQab3BfgvKqLcWEgxt6-VW8GvyNIAiwV4Q7U1EgMHsVFs/s1600/chapbook.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekVdA-1rdoG768-6Ax173MbrG05um2Qd8HHW6UUEyoTxP8SGscvWL5EyNmebPvpCJv8Kop089fYXBMmC_RfgS5sFP-p3zLvTQab3BfgvKqLcWEgxt6-VW8GvyNIAiwV4Q7U1EgMHsVFs/s200/chapbook.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561128096884475170" /></a><br />He had wide influence as a poster designer, but also did numerous magazines covers for <em>Collier’s, Good Housekeeping</em>, the <em>Inland Printer</em>, and others. He became a consultant to the American Type Founders, designing type faces (among them Wayside Roman, Missal Initials, Bewick Roman, and others) and he also edited and wrote for their <em>The American Chapbook</em>. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8O3GhI_Jf9T30kGpr91kgk5uyYwIntX3MbF6_az1kgfQHbsamA0frM8cQVtePSAHQA1r9GYuX5C0HNqbGEPqPtErQIVuUlKoovVTw2kkHM860uPBNw_NRebU3bnx1S9qGiqtCogDRm-o/s1600/chap2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8O3GhI_Jf9T30kGpr91kgk5uyYwIntX3MbF6_az1kgfQHbsamA0frM8cQVtePSAHQA1r9GYuX5C0HNqbGEPqPtErQIVuUlKoovVTw2kkHM860uPBNw_NRebU3bnx1S9qGiqtCogDRm-o/s200/chap2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561127563447987282" /></a><br /><br />In 1915 he went to work for William Randolph Hearst, among other things serving as art supervisor to a series of Hearst-produced films, and subsequently acting as head art supervisor of the Hearst empire of magazines and newspapers. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0dSI1bWOBVL1WyNHKtl7gHw074Ekh5xJeLXxsie5a7u2IpLVJPuYQ93af_Z9YsBXVGRyjclveXg0FR03rdZEggFsDAlt00MbHgV0rOgtNYXfRm1n6xrW6kka7cFWmfNe5VcYH4V69Eos/s1600/fringilla2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0dSI1bWOBVL1WyNHKtl7gHw074Ekh5xJeLXxsie5a7u2IpLVJPuYQ93af_Z9YsBXVGRyjclveXg0FR03rdZEggFsDAlt00MbHgV0rOgtNYXfRm1n6xrW6kka7cFWmfNe5VcYH4V69Eos/s400/fringilla2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561129269350352610" /></a><br /> <br /><br />Much of Bradley’s illustrative work is done in strong black-and-white images, flat tones, and with the fluid and nature-inspired lines of Art Nouveau. His artwork is as much appreciated today (if not more) than it was 100 years ago. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaOd28BMrLxnmr45ojT08OWDCiGdVT0X5z1Q7WuP-NzgYzimX1ZA8e6SaUR-84XEjICMMjLACieM7DdRPCAcZO8LoQAd19RRIyxq6hxPcFCONcDZWB6aimP4KF8_GJV50W6DOxC4sw3w/s1600/fringilla3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXaOd28BMrLxnmr45ojT08OWDCiGdVT0X5z1Q7WuP-NzgYzimX1ZA8e6SaUR-84XEjICMMjLACieM7DdRPCAcZO8LoQAd19RRIyxq6hxPcFCONcDZWB6aimP4KF8_GJV50W6DOxC4sw3w/s320/fringilla3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561128693415120818" /></a><br /><br />In 1954, the AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Arts) awarded Bradley a gold medal, the highest award for a graphic artist. He died in 1962 at the age of 94. <br /><em></em>EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1010960499467387197.post-39220338058268358582011-01-10T20:24:00.000-08:002011-01-10T20:30:52.620-08:00Remarkable Creatures: The Fictionalized Story of Mary Anning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-P9hdrTeF4EXE5RnRYE8VH7CF5IkEySs1NBM5DpnE5zuNRREtdw015NXI591P8qGFihJU-49gOUAnoOYbvTNZVFXaMgYZ9d211wRSfcveLQZg4XKAQGg3GiBXaC0XbNOE1gASoQXTfI/s1600/creatures1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-P9hdrTeF4EXE5RnRYE8VH7CF5IkEySs1NBM5DpnE5zuNRREtdw015NXI591P8qGFihJU-49gOUAnoOYbvTNZVFXaMgYZ9d211wRSfcveLQZg4XKAQGg3GiBXaC0XbNOE1gASoQXTfI/s320/creatures1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560780348735467250" /></a><br /><br />Right before Christmas I was zooming through a new bookstore looking for a particular gift book, and as I passed the end of a gondola my gaze fell on this: Tracy Chevalier’s <em>Remarkable Creatures</em>. The cover is attractive and the title provocative, and when I flipped the book over and read that it was a novel about Mary Anning it went directly into my shopping basket.<br /><br />What could be better than a novel based on one of the 19th Century’s most significant fossil hunters? Mary Anning was an uneducated working-class woman in a culture where social stature, breeding, and education were part of a severe caste system. All of which mitigated against her receiving the kind of acknowledgement and acclaim that her discoveries deserved. She discovered the plesiosaurus, the ichthyosaurus, and other fossils that turned early 19th-Century assumptions inside out. (Not only did she find the fossils, she recognized them as being different from any living creatures, or previously-discovered fossils.) This was an era when the Church of England was still steadfastly sticking to Bishop Ussher’s proclamations that the world was created in 4004 BC. These fossils, and others like them, led British scientists to examine the concepts of evolution and the great geological history of Earth. <br /><br />A middle-class spinster - Elizabeth Philpot, who was farmed out with two of her sisters to live in Lyme Regis when their brother inherited the family property and married - developed an interest in fish fossils and became Mary’s fossil-hunting partner and her champion to the scientific community. Mary’s talent for discovering specimens in the fossil-rich cliffs and outcroppings along the Lyme Regis beaches drew many scientists and amateurs to her, without attracting the recognition she richly deserved. A number of recent biographies have helped to rectify this lack of acknowledgement. <br /><br />Chevalier’s novel captures these characters and richly evokes the atmosphere and muted excitement of the fossil beds, and of the town of Lyme Regis. Needless to say this novel would make an interesting movie, as did the author’s Girl With a Pearl Earring. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALvIFW87zYQmbqy5K8Nkq3clpc26-MW3i1UCQaLubxQwz4mCZy0WFhh_hqHjggamxYyUFMqAztejO88f0PSph1of85_Q2deAa2LFuh8v1bxtW0PDAFPWZWxbkvywstdE6xHC2L_GkBhY/s1600/creatures2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALvIFW87zYQmbqy5K8Nkq3clpc26-MW3i1UCQaLubxQwz4mCZy0WFhh_hqHjggamxYyUFMqAztejO88f0PSph1of85_Q2deAa2LFuh8v1bxtW0PDAFPWZWxbkvywstdE6xHC2L_GkBhY/s320/creatures2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560780705642868722" /></a><br /><br /><br />NOTE: the fossils shown are just a few of my own collection, and not intended to represent Lyme Regis material.EphemeraLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15501580346319806362noreply@blogger.com2