The Bookity Book & Tall Grass Salon

Dill pickles and yellow mustatd are the keys to a good sloppy joe.

Good morning, comfort food lovers.

Today's almanac is a tasty one:

The Writer's Almanac for October 30, 2014

Partly so because of the poem, which I really enjoyed, and also because of the choice of items. I'd never heard of Fred Friendly, whose birthday is today, but his story is very interesting.

We've also got John Adams and Ezra Pound.

Enjoy. I'm going to look for some breakfast.

In another screwy coincidence, yesterday morning I was dreaming about a line of poetry--petals on a wet black bough--when the alarm blinked. I spent the next ten minutes trying to remember the author's name.

I could remember his generation, his portrait in my Lit. book, that he had translated hieroglyphics, that he was once accused of treason, that he was red-headed and possibly insane but I could not remember his name. I was going to google the lines but then Ezra Pound floated into my mind. Something to ponder when I have more time--s6

Here in Kansas, there's no smoking in public establishments of any kind. On reservations, of course, tribal sovereignty* means they can allow it. I was thrilled when I moved back home and could safely go out to eat without getting one of those crazy second-hand nicotine highs. I'm like a cracked out spider monkey when I get a hit of nicotine.

*4 attempts at spelling sovereignty before I resorted to spell check.

I grew up on a second hand nicotine high. My mom was a two pack a day woman. My dad hated smoking worse than anything. It finally killed her, just like he said it would. I hate the smell of cigaret smoke and everything about it but I married a smoker, too. --s6

Eh, the biggest problem with smoking in public establishments was that most of them have shitty ventilation systems. If you have a good ventilation system, it isn't really noticeable.

W. Lafayette has a smoking ban, but Lafayette doesn't, but many of the bars have gone smoke-free anyway. Some of them haven't though, and it's clear which ones have good ventilation systems and which ones don't.

All the smokers from the Black Sparrow went to The Vault when the Sparrow went smoke-free, and it's clear The Vault can't handle all that smoke. I don't like going there anymore. But Harry's is just fine, and I like being able to have a cigarette and a beer there.

Maryn said:

But people mistrusted their claims that you could dine outdoors all year, even while it was snowing, and the place tanked.

Click to expand...

They should have opened in France or Alaska instead.

*clears throat*

Ah, have you all voted in the Poetry Review contest? There's still time left, but do read the (only eight) entries and pick one, two, three, because, the more votes the better.

Maryn, you might like some of the poems, too. The relevant threads are stickied at the top of the Poetry forum. You don't have to be an expert and you can use whatever standard of choice you wish to! And then we get these cool prizes.

Maryn said:

But then I wouldn't have gotten to go, even briefly.

That's a lie; I've been to France. I was supremely uncomfortable, speaking zero French. People who told me everyone there speaks English lied to me. Those the tourists deal with--waiters, cab drivers, subway ticket sellers, etc.--do not, although other friendly tourists helped us at times. We still didn't recognize the food we thought we'd ordered half the time.

Click to expand...

Hmm, all my waiters spoke English.

Though the conductor on the train didn't, and failed to communicate how to lock the bathroom door.

I loved all of the food I had.

I work among the French every day. They all do speak English, but many of them won't. Like a grudge thing. It's the opposite of people in Japan. Most of them don't speak English, but they are willing to try.

Maryn said:

Oh, I get it. I was an entitled American, in their eyes.

Click to expand...

Did you try talking to them in French first?

I hardly know any, but I always greeted people in French and tried what little I knew.

Maybe that helped.

And I found the waiters a lot more helpful and attentive than American ones. Not like the cliche at all.

I'd love to visit France. I'm a big history buff and somewhat foody tourist and France is the creme de la creme of food. Also, my WIP takes place in 1917 France, and I'd love to see the battlefields where the story takes place.

What was embarrassing is when I went to Senegal, I understood more French that I learned 25 years earlier and never used than the Luganda I learned only a year before and heard every day in Uganda. And I agree with Kuwi; just a little bit of the local language goes a long way in getting more consideration from the locals. Except one time, I was in a new Ugandan town and tried to greet the shopkeeper and state what I wanted in the local language. She kept scowling and shaking her head, then asked in English "What language are you speaking?" I said "Luganda" and she just laughed and said "Nooooooo!" Between her not expecting a white to know Luganda and my accent she just couldn't make out what I was saying.

Good morning, and Happy Halloween.

The Writer's Almanac for October 31, 2014

I love the poem today. When I was that age, though, I never really was able to go very far with such plans; I was cursed to be able to see all the ways they wouldn't work!

It's the birthday of John Keats and the anniversary of Martin Luther's posting of his Theses on the church door.

And I am going to find more coffee.

Tonight's plans? Sloppy Joes! I figured it was somethjng easy while the neighborhood kiddies came to the door. My parents say they get about 80 kids. I useed to get about 200 when I lived in Mississippi, as they would truck kids in from other neighborhoods. Halloween was a big thing in that neighborhood, with lots of yard displays, costumes, etc.

We had our first dusting of snow last night. I miss my Equator

I've been internet deprived - the connection at the hotel in NYC was expensive (not to mention the room's cost) so we didn't indulge. So glad to get a brief fix today before we travel on.

Anyway, I saw Curious Incident last night. Bowled over! It was one of the most wonderful stage plays I've ever seen. It used technical capabilities to artistic ends, unlike Times Square where they use it to shout and bash you over the head. The lead guy is a new graduate from Juilliard - he learned 1000's of lines and ran and ran and ran - it is a very physical production. And the loss of the pet rat in the subway is actually harrowing. Anyway, SEE IT if you can.

Ok, I still have several days to catch up on but we need to check out. We're on our way to an impromptu family gathering (husband's family) so I may get more time tomorrow to check back in. Honestly had withdrawals. Kept thinking about the poems and friendships I was missing.

Happy halloween...

ps We'll be doing "walking tacos" which is new to me. Evidently my husband's family makes them - a small back of chips opened with taco sauce poured over. Not my idea of a trick or treat, but to each his own <-cliche alert

My experience in France was that you need to make an effort to speak French. I you do, the waiters (everybody, really) will quickly stop you and speak English, but if you don't make some sort of effort, they resent it. Much as we do.

I got very good at this phrase: "Pardon, Monsieur, my francis est tres mauves. Parlez lentement s'il vous plait."

Right now as I sit and wait for rejections, I am trying to decide between first person and third person for my new WIP. There's some introspection you can get with first person, but I also feel that it can get whiny very quick. Any thoughts?

PS -- here in the mountains, we do truck or teat at the school, so I've got to decorate the pickup and drive to a parking lot where I can see kids make 17 trips around. Not my idea of fun. But my daughter's class is doing a flash mob to surprise the other kids -- they've been practicing Thriller for three weeks. So it should be fun.

I used to get 50-60 trick or treaters because I live on a main road. Then I got a rescue boxer who believes everyone who knocks on the door is a serial killer. It stresses her out so much that I have to go dark on Halloween night now.

My best ever multi-lingual failure was the 6 months I dated a Scot. We could not understand each other and had regular disagreements caused by nothing but our failure to comprehend each other's "English."