Season of mist

Month

September 2009

Overheard on a Salt Marsh
  • Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
  • Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
  • Give them me.
  • No.
  • Give them me. Give them me.
  • No.
  • Then I will howl all night in the reeds. Lie in the mud and howl for them.
  • Goblin, why do you love them so?
  • They are better than stars or water,
  • Better than voices of winds that sing,
  • Better than any man's fair daughter,
  • Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
  • Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
  • Give me your beads. I desire them.
  • No.
  • I will howl in a deep lagoon for your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them me.
  • No.
Sep 30, 2009
A smuggler's song

If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet,

Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street.

Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie.

Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Five and twenty ponies,

Trotting through the dark -

Brandy for the Parson,

‘Baccy for the Clerk;

Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,

And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find

Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine,

Don’t you shout to come and look, nor use ‘em for your play.

Put the brishwood back again - and they’ll be gone next day!

If you see the stable-door setting open wide;

If you see a tired horse lying down inside;

If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;

If the lining’s wet and warm - don’t you ask no more!

If you meet King George’s men, dressed in blue and red,

You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.

If they call you “pretty maid,” and chuck you ‘neath the chin,

Don’t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one’s been!

Knocks and footsteps round the house - whistles after dark -

You’ve no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.

Trusty’s here, and Pincher’s here, and see how dumb they lie -

They don’t fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!

If you do as you’ve been told, ‘likely there’s a chance,

You’ll be given a dainty doll, all the way from France,

With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood -

A present from the Gentlemen, along o’ being good!

Five and twenty ponies,

Trotting through the dark -

Brandy for the Parson,

‘Baccy for the Clerk;

Them that asks no questions isn’t told a lie -

Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by.

by Rudyard Kipling

Sep 30, 2009
My Best Camera subs → bestc.am
Sep 25, 20091 note
Sep 25, 200917 notes
kung fu grippe - "...that kind of a machine..." → kungfugrippe.com

Kurt Vonnegut Reads ‘Breakfast of Champions’ Three Years Before Publication

Sep 22, 2009
Golden Age Comic Book Stories → goldenagecomicbookstories.blogspot.com

Frank Frazetta

The Romance Stories ~ 1953-1955 scanned from the Untamed Love Portfolio Published by Russ Cochran ~ 1973

Sep 21, 2009
An idyllic meal in the backwaters of Kerala

The first time felt like going back to when we were kids, playing spies and government agents.

Earlier in the day we were told to walk down to the water where we would find a boat waiting for us. We got ready in our room, wondering what the next couple of hours would bring and at the designated time we closed the door behind us, walked toward the restaurant with all the lights on, the smell of spices and cooking meat mixed with the perpetual odor of coconut reaching our noses in small tendrils, but that night it wasn’t our destination.

With the noise of the restaurant customers behind us, we descended the small steps from the swimming pool area to the water of the lagoon and, between the trees that marked the boundaries where earth and water meet, we saw a small light going on and off a few times against a pitch black background.

Only when we got to within a few feet could we see a human silhouette behind it and we were greeted by the single word question: “Stephen’s?” in the wonderful accented English we were already comfortable with.

After we confirmed that yes, we were looking for “Stephen’s”, he helped us to get in the long, slim boat he was standing in. We quickly found our seats on one of the two planks of wood crossing it from side to side and the man pushed the boat away with one swift motion of his long pole.

Our destination emerged slowly from the night’s darkness, first as an outline of small lights, then as a more real place, shaped like a letter H on its side, a two stories high closed central section with a balcony at either side on the top floor, a narrow staircase leading from the base, all supported by five boats similar to the one we were in.

We were greeted by a big smile and led to the balcony at the front of the restaurant, facing the ocean, where a dozen small tables were arranged in a semi casual way; only one other couple was there, absorbed in quiet conversation.

Red and white cloths covered the tables, each with one or two candles shimmering on them. The only other sources of light were the light bulbs on the rails of the balcony which enhanced the whole surroundings, a clear sky with an almost full moon reflectin in the dark water of the sea, stars arranged in unfamiliar manner and to mirror them, a string of lights on the surface of the water, one for each of the fishing boats that during the day rest on the thin strip of sand between the Backwaters and the Arabian Sea.

When the house special, cooked in incandescent Kadai, reached our table with fish and spices and exotic sauce still sizzling, we instantly knew Stephen’s would become a regular feature of our Keralan nights.

Sep 16, 2009
An Interview With Sketchnote King Mike Rohde | Hi, I'm Grace Smith → gracesmith.co.uk
Sep 16, 2009
Sep 16, 20091 note
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