Farewell to the Lady

The July painting on my Pre-Raphaelites calendar

was "The Lady of Shalott" by William Holman Hunt. 

This awful reproduction made me long to see

the original test painting again with sharp 

lines of threads snapping and unraveling like

whips, like the lady's life when 

her curiosity got the better 

of her self-control.

Flying high

Still a bit dizzy from the release of tension and a slight fever, I nevertheless considered yesterday a success.  I enjoyed the class I half-taught a lot.  Most of the class seemed to, as well.  I've gotten two emails from students who want to discuss it more!  Oh, it would be so fun to do a speculative fiction class at this school.  It would be a huge challenge, don't get me wrong, but the prep for the class was really thought-provoking and didn't ruin the book for me, so I think I could really enjoy putting such a class together.  Some day!

In other news, my plan to save money by not allowing myself to go to any of the Borders stores in my area that are closing  worked!  By the time I finished getting ready for my class and let myself take the time to go, they were all closed but one, and it was the first one I went to.  I'm glad they mentioned that they were the last "closing" store open, or I would have wasted a lot of time and gas money.  If self-control doesn't save the day (or wallet), sometimes laziness does.  :)

Confirmation that I am a young fogey

When I got back home after the holidays, I had a lot of mail waiting for me.  Menards was having a big sale.  I sat on my floor drooling over . . . the recliners.  Yes, rocking recliners in at least one non-hideous color!  I wanted one soooooo bad. 

No matter that I

• couldn't justify it in my budget
• couldn't transport it from the store
• couldn't actually fit it in my little 385 square foot cave. 

I wantssssss ittttttt.  So soft and rocky and lovely.  I could make it fit.  I could drag it home with a rope.  Rocky and soft.  My own, my precious . . .

Sometimes I hate being a practical adult with a modicum of self control.

Cookies, caritas, self-motivation for grown-ups

Wheee! 

Actually, not really.  I wish I felt more jazzed after sending in that submission to The Other Journal, and I'm glad I pulled it together, but mostly I just feel a bit smooshed.  That sleepless night and the nauseating pain today kind of wiped me out more than "Caritas et Amor" and hitting a deadline can fix.

Stroope's arrangement of Caritas has this beautiful kind of harmony at the end of several lines that sort of transports me.  I wish I knew enough musical theory to explain it, but it's like the lines come towards each other and the resolve is not really a resolve, just a bit of closer dissonance.  Or something like that.  We read it in choir today, and I loved reading it because when we're just starting out reading a piece in our choir of really non-professionals, everyone is kind of quiet and gentle with things, and the sopranos voices just sort of hover lightly, not strained or harsh or loud, and everything mixes into something like what I honestly hope I will hear in heaven someday.

Anyway, because I ate my vegetables today (my 18+ hour day), tomorrow I shall feast on a DVD I've been withholding from myself.  It's the next bit of that baseball series, and I hope no one gets intentionally walked.  (That scene brought back some surprisingly bitter memories.  I HATED getting intentionally walked, especially at the tournaments when the bases were loaded or almost loaded.  It drove me NUTS!  GRAWR!)

I will also take a crack at submitting to the Mid-American Review, running a lot of errands, possibly finishing up an application for a teaching position at a really unique college, and maybe singing a new song in choir.  Hooray.  Now, to bed.  To sleep, perchance, etc.

What do you use to reward/motivate yourself?  I know for some people it's food, for others books or music or movies.  Some people even use spending time with their friends as a reward.  So what's your cookie?