In my novel What’s Left, Cassia’s extended family revolves around a big Victorian house, one that’s undergone extensive restoration.
Do you ever dream of living in a big old house? What most attracts you?
~*~

You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
In my novel What’s Left, Cassia’s extended family revolves around a big Victorian house, one that’s undergone extensive restoration.
Do you ever dream of living in a big old house? What most attracts you?
~*~





Dwelling in a rundown, low-income part of town or the countryside is a common theme in much of my writing. Call it funky, if you will, but it’s there – like I recall.
~*~
Assuming you’ve had a similar experience, where did you do your laundry?


As a genealogist, I’m not alone in facing situations where key questions are unlikely to ever be answered. If only we could go back in history and ask the individuals themselves, hoping they might know. (Dealing with more recent situations, I’ve found three different people often have quite different recollections. Take that as a caveat.) And that’s presuming we could even understand each other, considering the differences in dialect and customs.
So, back to the ancestors. They had to be dead before I was born, right?
~*~
How about you and your roots?
The hippie movement brought tensions to the family before Cassia’s future father showed up on the scene. He had no idea he never would have been welcomed by everyone even a year or two earlier, much less encouraged to stay.
Have you ever been welcomed in a situation where timing was everything?
crystalized sand
amethyst geodes
“roses of the desert”

Is the German Romantic opera composer the biggest successful egotist in the history of art? (He couldn’t even compose an effective symphony, yet look, he couldn’t trust anyone else with a libretto, either.)
He was definitely stuck in a Madonna/whore complex regarding women and, more specifically, women within further Roman Catholic entanglements like relics and grails and a sword or spear or two. Where was Freud? Talk about symbolism? It all gets pretty lurid, even before we get to the serious limitations regarding his immortals. I wouldn’t call them gods, exactly, but rather something more like today’s tainted celebrities and political hopefuls. What losers! So badly dressed, at that.
He definitely wouldn’t have gone for today’s fashion supermodels, either. Everything in his world is hefty, leading to some of the most sumptuous music ever. Seems nobody ever asked how he really felt about his mother. Give me some more sumptuous scoring, please.
And yes, he goes way over the top, including the seemingly endlessly boring stretches of boredom.
As Mark Twain said, he’s not nearly as bad as he sounds.
Not that he can apparently help it.
But then, as critic Alex Ross has elaborated, he’s also the foundation of Hollywood, from the plots and scenery all the way up. Think of the thousands involved in each movie and then the music.
For years now, I’ve been explaining opera as the movies of their time. Turns out to be more accurate than I imagined.
it’s autumn when the nine-volt battery for my clock radio keeps time in a power outage so the alarm will go off when it’s supposed to rather than umpteen hours later died in the tropical heat wave during my absence and the warning light kept driving me nuts so I walked to the corner grocery for a replacement and on the trek home stopped at the farm market and picked up a quart of fresh cider full of Vitamin C (how rational!) overlooking the windy interplay of sunlight and clouds just down the street of shape notes with the earlier version of “Morning Star” lyrics