It’s unusually warm today for a late fall day here in Holland, Michigan. I got up a bit late but no one else was up yet. I turned off the furnace and opened doors and a window. It has since gotten chilly. This afternoon, all doors and windows are closed, but the heat isn’t on. I’m sitting in my living room with a blanket draped over me.
I made bread. it’s cooling.
Earlier this morning I reread a new poem by Alison C. Rollins. I stumbled across her yesterday. She has the first poem in the Poetry Magazine in the new November issue.
I just checked and this issue is not posted online yet on the Poetry site. Rollins’ poem is called “Quartet for the End of Time.” Here’s a link to her website, if you are curious. I haven’t read any other poems by her, but I did inter library loan her book, Library of Small Catastrophes.
I find myself reading the new translation of Proust, Vol. 2. In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower.
I have read my way twice through Proust. I remember more each time. Reading this for the third time (granted in a new translation) feels like reading poetry almost since I know the direction he is heading. Great stuff.
One of the transcriptions my trio is scheduled to play this weekend is a setting by Grieg.
I think it’s kind of nice. I don’t know too much about Grieg. I have been playing through what I own of his piano music. It seems to fit my mood right now. I’m going to go read Grove about him after I publish this blog.
This is from a few days ago. My son-in-law, Jeremy, is quoted in it. It’s a sad
These two sites have entered my political echo chamber. story.