Grey Seals

Grey sky and sea

Nekkid trees

Yesterday was spectacularly dreary, wet, cold and blah. Huh, must still be November. To be fair, we’ve had 70+ degree days this month and a lot of sun AND it’ll come out tomorrow too. Possibly. According to some reports. Maybe.

All The Amazing Bob, Rocco, Coco and I feel like doing, in this cold, grey, late autumn weather, is eating and napping. Yeah, not exactly the healthiest scheme BUT sometimes it’s best to give in, curl up with a good cat, an entertaining book (Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs—so far so good), a cup of hot cocoa and a cookie. TAB’s begun baking again—a good news/bad news kind of a thing. I’m happy as hell that he’s got some energy back and the house smells divine BUT those cookie calories won’t lose themselves. Sadly.

The rain’s supposed to hold off until around noon today. Time to defy my sluggardly desires, suit up and ride.

People hit the sauce in a big way all winter. Amidst blizzards they wrestle unsuccessfully with the dark comedy of their lives, laughter trapped in their frigid gizzards. Meanwhile, the mercury just plummets, like a migrating duck blasted out of the sky by some hunter in a cap with fur earflaps. 

~Amy Gerstler

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
~Willy the Shake
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

Coco with her new fav scarf (mine)

Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Like Brooms of Steel (1252)
~Emily Dickinson
Like Brooms of Steel 
The Snow and Wind 
Had swept the Winter Street -
The House was hooked 
The Sun sent out  
Faint Deputies of Heat -
Where rode the Bird 
The Silence tied 
His ample - plodding Steed
The Apple in the Cellar snug 
Was all the one that played.

You know what? Dickinson was just 55 when she quit this good still green earth. Two years younger than yers truly.  Oof.

Rocco greets me at the naproom door

Ancient Music
~Ezra Pound
Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.

Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damn you, sing: Goddamm.

Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.

Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm.
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMN.

Late Autumn
~Eiko San
Larch trees grove naked
Inside, a splendid brightness
Winter came foward.

Grey Seal—Elton John