Thanks so much for this lovely video, Eleanor. I started a Jack London book once, but didn't finish it. Beautiful book you showed us. So nice to have your grandfather's books there. I do like that poem - Truth.
Hi Eleonore! Thank you for the shoutout... you got me at Jack London 😉 I adore him! Subscribed and looking forward to see more from you! Not sure if Emily tagged you, in case she didn't, consider yourself tagged in our La Bella Italia tag, that is if you'd like to do a version of it. Ciao from Italy ✨
chimney sweep geese, made me think of smoke in the shape of the gooses/geese, although the smoke doesn't sweep the chimney as in clean it - but maybe it or they sweep up and sweep thru, and then the smoke is flying in puffs like white feathers maybe . . .
The chimney sweeps used the phrase “ The blacker the goose, the cleaner the flue.”😱 Because I had nothing better to do with a 3 am wake than be curious about chimney sweep geese! 😂You crack me up and I get you. I too am an extreme swerver with my reading. (Loved your analogy). I must get to bed and rest my head. 🛌 💤 Thanks Eleanore💕☀️
Lately, I can let go of what I don't like. And think I know it when I see it - what I like. And the don't like. Time is running out, and I don't want to force myself. That said, there have been some things over the years i didn't think I liked, or didn't know i liked, but ended up liking.
I read Truth as a comparison between sharing and the actual truth which is giving life…an infant in your arms in a cold room (metaphor for a cold world), an overturned child’s toy (things out of kilter), and the life in her arms as a still unfinished canvas yet to become it’s finished self. This is most striking as she readies the infant for sleep. I’m probably so off that I should be embarrassed I wrote this 😅
Oh! Yes! I reread the poem just now and I see your reading so clearly. Thank you so much for writing it up in this comment section. I looked it up and this poem is found in her book "The Cradle of the Real Life" (2000). In the collected works called "Door in the Mountain" which I have it comes right after the poem "Mare and Newborn Foal" - you can read the latter on the page of poems on her website. So much to think about now thanks to you, that turned-over boat somehow really punches me in the gut now. So true (I wrote that before realising the pun, sorry lol). E x
Thanks so much for this lovely video, Eleanor. I started a Jack London book once, but didn't finish it. Beautiful book you showed us. So nice to have your grandfather's books there. I do like that poem - Truth.
As always love your videos and insight!
I would love to see a bookshelf tour of your grandfather's books. They look so beautiful on those shelves...and so intriguing.
Hi Eleonore! Thank you for the shoutout... you got me at Jack London 😉 I adore him! Subscribed and looking forward to see more from you! Not sure if Emily tagged you, in case she didn't, consider yourself tagged in our La Bella Italia tag, that is if you'd like to do a version of it. Ciao from Italy ✨
chimney sweep geese, made me think of smoke in the shape of the gooses/geese, although the smoke doesn't sweep the chimney as in clean it - but maybe it or they sweep up and sweep thru, and then the smoke is flying in puffs like white feathers maybe . . .
I'm so glad you connected with Daniela, she and David from polyglot reads are my people. Thanks for the shoutout and the poetry
The chimney sweeps used the phrase “ The blacker the goose, the cleaner the flue.”😱
Because I had nothing better to do with a
3 am wake than be curious about chimney sweep geese! 😂You crack me up and I get you. I too am an extreme swerver with my reading. (Loved your analogy). I must get to bed and rest my head. 🛌 💤
Thanks Eleanore💕☀️
Love that! E x
Lately, I can let go of what I don't like. And think I know it when I see it - what I like. And the don't like. Time is running out, and I don't want to force myself. That said, there have been some things over the years i didn't think I liked, or didn't know i liked, but ended up liking.
I read Truth as a comparison between sharing and the actual truth which is giving life…an infant in your arms in a cold room (metaphor for a cold world), an overturned child’s toy (things out of kilter), and the life in her arms as a still unfinished canvas yet to become it’s finished self. This is most striking as she readies the infant for sleep. I’m probably so off that I should be embarrassed I wrote this 😅
Oh! Yes! I reread the poem just now and I see your reading so clearly. Thank you so much for writing it up in this comment section. I looked it up and this poem is found in her book "The Cradle of the Real Life" (2000). In the collected works called "Door in the Mountain" which I have it comes right after the poem "Mare and Newborn Foal" - you can read the latter on the page of poems on her website. So much to think about now thanks to you, that turned-over boat somehow really punches me in the gut now. So true (I wrote that before realising the pun, sorry lol). E x