I feel like this morning I need my tea to write, so you'll have to wait a few more minutes. It's currently brewing in my new nifty pot. I was originally feeling too lazy to go download photos for the blog this morning, and was considering, in fact, having today's entry contain no pictures at all. However, since I have a few momments to kill waiting for tea I may as well go get the camera and plug it in. I do love photos. Up above that is a picture of our very first ripe strawberry. It was a little bitter but so good. We've had a few more since then too! So exciting.
Our garden is on fire! Ok, not literally but the lettuce is growing so quickly. Does anyone want some? If any of you would like some fresh lettuce let me know and I'll gladly pick you some. I'm already wondering what we are going to do with it all and it's still growing. Haha.
My auntie wanted me to tell you a story from yesterday:
I was giving her a ride to the dentist, and she was telling me about her guardian angel. Perhaps that's not the proper terminology but there is a bird that comes to visit her some days, and she especially notices his presence when she is feeling down. Now, through powers of deduction we figure that it is probably a raven. Neither of us being aviary experts, that's just a guess. However, I happen to say something along the lines of "thank goodness it's not a crow. Who would want a crow for a guardian angel?".
Fast forward about 10 minutes in the drive. I am puttering through a small town, and I see a vehicle coming towards me in the opposite lane. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until he gets right close and a crow flies out of his lane and straight up in front of my windshield, dropping something onto the hood of my car in the process. I got such a shock that in my feeble, automatic response to protect myself, my hands flew off the wheel and up in front of my face (which musta had some real fright of an expression on it). In hindsight, that really wouldn't have done anything. Other than make poor auntie laugh at me til she almost cried. I am pretty sure that was the crows' way of getting back at me for the earlier badmouthing.
Now, I mentioned that she thinks she is being visited by a raven. I also told auntie that perhaps my favorite poem of all time is The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe.
She asked me to post a copy so that she could read it. I warned her it was long. In fact, it may not be as effective read as it is listened to. But since I am not around to read it to all of you, I will post it here now. Any of you that already know it, or can't be bothered to read it all to the end I will say goodbye to now. xoxo. Hope you all have a lovely, remarkable day!
p.s. The reaction checkmark option thingy at the bottom of my posts were not working. I know people have been clicking them, however all I was ever seeing was (0) beside each option. No count. I've gone into the system and edited it, hoping that this will help. So if you could all click an option then I will know by tomorrow if it is working or not. Thanks!
The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Source:
http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html
Now you may all my wondering why someone as positive as myself loves such a dark and depressing poem. My answer? It's not the subject or story. It's the poem itself. The structure, the way the words flow and dip and bend. How it feels coming off your tongue when you read it out loud. The music behind the words. It just has great lines.
XOXO
Have a great day!
