What stage of Christmas/Holiday preparations have you
reached? Office party? Last-minute shopping? En route
to see loved ones? Wrapping? Still baking? Packing your
car for a trip? The f/k/a Gang is still a little behind.
If you don’t get back here before Christmas, Hanukkah,
or the Holiday of your choice, please take our sincere
wishes with you for a joyous and peaceful holiday season.
Randy Brooks has captured a mix of moments and
emotions that touched me this morning.
Christmas morning–
misty breath of cows
rising where they lie
home from the war
not your prayers
he says just luck
through the open door . . .
her smile doesn’t forgive
all my sins
the daughter taps flour
into a mixing bowl . . .
mother’s apron tight
cedar walking cane
hangs from the coat rack
dust on the handles curves
“snowflakeS” “SnowflakeS”
praising the hostess
eggnog
in his moustache
big brother’s grin . . .
the last piece of the puzzle
out of his pocket
grandpa’s cedar cane
my son poling holes
in a snow drift
stockings on the mantel . . .
the child’s eyes follow sparks
up the chimney
except: “home from the war” – Modern Haiku (Summer 2005)
potluck
I’ve had a hard time getting into the punditry mode this week, but
Prof. Bainbridge has been opining at his usual prolific pace. Check
out his coverage of Britain’s plan to keep watch on all vehicle
movements on the nation’s roads. [we’re still worrying about wintry
precipitation for our drive on Saturday]
“SpitzerG”
Also check out Steve’s continuing reportage on New York Attorny
General and Governor-in-waiting Eliot Spitzer — Prof. B. asks whether
Spitzer = Thug? and whether he’s channeling Teddy Roosevelt. The
closest we’ve come to such heady issues lately is Prof. Yabut’s recent
comment that a spitzer is a sharpener in the German language, with the
the pinnacle, a sting (or a prick). After a few stops at the f/k/a Holiday
Punch Bowl last night, Yabut also pointed out that Spitzer would have
made a darn good Reindeer Name, noting that Eliot, too, may have to
battle a guy name Rudolf for the lead position.
victorian christmas
a trail of horse shit
down the main street
stuck beneath
the nativity stamp
a strand of blond hair
dagosan [for Steve Bainbridge]
“rudolfN”
