Dear friends and family,
It has taken me a few days to recover from our Thanksgiving jaunt, but it was well worth it. Since then, I sent a completed draft of my essay to Laury, and her comments inspired me to look afresh at a few spots. This morning she came over, and we read the changes I had made and did a little tinkering. Except for a couple of incomplete footnotes it is done!
Now I can turn more fully to hamletworks.org, as I mentioned in my last blog. Jesús, a dear friend whom I met at the Folger Library when he was working on his PhD, has completed a wonderful new text based on my Enfolded Hamlet, a modernized Enfolded version. This is on our site provisionally while Jesús and Jeffery, our web master, consider any adjustments that are needed. I am thrilled by this development for a couple of reasons: in a way, Jesús’s work is an amplification and refinement of my own, which is in the spelling style of 1600: His is completely modernized. This will help users, who rarely have old spellings in mind when searching, to find the words they are looking for. We have so many riches on the site; part of our responsibility is to broadcast what we have to the world.
It‘s frustrating sometimes: The most important journal in Shakespeare studies, the Shakespeare Quarterly, in the last issue, had an article about web sites for the plays. The author did not include our site. Why? Eric, one of the 4 main editors of our site, is on the editorial board of SQ: did he not notice this piece? Could he not have urged the writer to look at our site and consider including it? Since the board's deliberations are top secret, I will never know how it worked out that hamletworks.org was neglected. I have an urge to write to the author—to do what? to accomplish what? There is a politics in citation. If Harold Bloom's name had been on our site's masthead, I can bet that it would have had a prominent place in the SQ article. I have sometimes wanted to write an essay on "The Politics of Footnoting," but that leads me to an area of my thought, the bitter part, that I would like to avoid. It does me no good.
We do the best we can: When we are permanently connected to the MIT site, I think we will get better publicity.
In the meantime, working on the site is a great pleasure. I cannot get to the library, but I have many books on my shelves that I can use. My dear friend Kathryn gives me her copies of TLS, and it often has material on Hamlet that I can capture for the site. As coordinator (for now), I have lots of people to write to, to encourage them to compete the work for us they have promised.
Plenty to do to make myself useful—and make me joyful in the work.
Today I took my car to our gas station to get the new sticker and the oil change it has not had because I have driven it so seldom. Tomorrow I will venture a little further to my dentist, and then further as strength allows.
Sophie came for a lovely visit yesterday, and we talked about our work—she's in Victorian and modern, so I pressed a few relevant books upon her. I don't need them; she may find them useful. Today she sent Brendan, her husband, here to deliver spinach pillows, as she calls them. It seems to be an easy to make version of the spinach pie I think I started her on. I had two for lunch and they were scrumptious! Thanks, Sophie!
One of the new features I am dealing with is my inability to eat much because the huge spleen encroaches on everything within, now especially my stomach, though lungs are also affected. My stomach can not hold the humongous amounts I used to eat. I try 4-5 smaller meals a day, because the drop in weight is worrisome. It's only a few pounds, but when I know I have eaten a lot by normal standards, the downward trend seems to be relentless and uncontrollable. I know this is all just another side to the end game, but since eating is one of my very great pleasures I wish that I didn't have to go through this phase. Hey, we have our eyes open for drug trials and we hope.
Lots of love to you all,
Bernice
Monday, November 29, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thankful for Thanksgiving
Dear friends and family,
This has to be a first: our son Harvey forgot the annual family photo taken at this time of yea, so I don't have one to head this blog. It was very sweet to be with all four of our sons and three of our five grandchildren, as well as our two daughters-in-law, Sandy and Debbie; Sandy's beautiful and warm sister, Barbara; Barbara's significant other Matt, who took lots of individual photos that I hope to see soon. Also Sandy and Barbara’s father, Murray, for the first year without his wife Lee. He is doing as well as I hope Merwin will do. And I spent quite a bit of time with Dorothy, our son Arthur's mother-in-law. Arthur and Debbie were married two years ago the day after Thanksgiving, so they have agreed to forget the date and just celebrate anniversaries on Thanksgiving. His children are most likely spending Thanksgiving with their mother and her parents. Debbie's son, the mysterious one who never shows up, is a real person, we have heard, but busy with his medical residency. There were a few others there too, friends of the family. But mainly this was a family affair.
I distributed the necklaces I had gotten from Louise, an extraordinary artist, to Sandy, Rachael, Laura, and Michelle. Since I probably won't see them during Hanuka, I wanted to give them their presents early. Debbie and Arthur will be with us next weekend when she will get her present.
The feast was magnificent; Sandy as head chef, aided by her three daughters, had made wondrous side dishes, perfect for this vegetarian. I didn't even have to look at the turkey: my plate was full!
We managed the drive to and from Connecticut without incident, listening to a talking book, a novel by Anna Quindlan, a writer I had enjoyed years ago when she wrote a column in the NYT.
We had a motel room, which enabled us to rest for an hour or so in the afternoon, and of course avoided the drive home at night.
So on this day when I was supposed to go with Merwin to the Philharmonic but couldn't (he is going with Laury), what am I thankful for? I have mentioned the family: what could be better than these loving, caring, good people? And here alone, I enjoy what I see. High up in the bedroom, a new little window (where there was an air conditioner until last year) shows fir branches waving in what seems a stiff breeze, with glimpses of bright sky beyond. I love this window and view. The bright reds and oranges in other windows have until recently overshadowed this little scene, but now it comes into vivid play. In the other windows, bare branches predominate, but the birds have not vanished: they flock to the bird feeders. I don't see naked branches as bare ruined choirs bereft of birds that Shakespeare wrote about. Like my dear friend Vaughan, I appreciate their architectural grace.
I am thankful for good friends, many of whom have written to tell me what I have meant to them. Better now than saved for the memorial service!
Work is a source of constant pleasure: I am thankful that Laury has sent our Measure for Measure edition to the general editor and the publisher. No doubt they will ask us to make changes, but for now it is done. I am almost finished with the essay Laury wanted me to write for her collection. Let's say penultimate draft. I can begin to turn more totally to hamletworks.org, the project that has given me so much pleasure in the making for many years, I am grateful to all the scholars who have contributed, especially Nick, one of my fellow editors and Jeffery, our brilliant and creative web master. And Michèle and Jesùs, and so many more.
Family, friends, work, nature, music—the list goes on.
Love to you all, so precious to me,
Bernice
This has to be a first: our son Harvey forgot the annual family photo taken at this time of yea, so I don't have one to head this blog. It was very sweet to be with all four of our sons and three of our five grandchildren, as well as our two daughters-in-law, Sandy and Debbie; Sandy's beautiful and warm sister, Barbara; Barbara's significant other Matt, who took lots of individual photos that I hope to see soon. Also Sandy and Barbara’s father, Murray, for the first year without his wife Lee. He is doing as well as I hope Merwin will do. And I spent quite a bit of time with Dorothy, our son Arthur's mother-in-law. Arthur and Debbie were married two years ago the day after Thanksgiving, so they have agreed to forget the date and just celebrate anniversaries on Thanksgiving. His children are most likely spending Thanksgiving with their mother and her parents. Debbie's son, the mysterious one who never shows up, is a real person, we have heard, but busy with his medical residency. There were a few others there too, friends of the family. But mainly this was a family affair.
I distributed the necklaces I had gotten from Louise, an extraordinary artist, to Sandy, Rachael, Laura, and Michelle. Since I probably won't see them during Hanuka, I wanted to give them their presents early. Debbie and Arthur will be with us next weekend when she will get her present.
The feast was magnificent; Sandy as head chef, aided by her three daughters, had made wondrous side dishes, perfect for this vegetarian. I didn't even have to look at the turkey: my plate was full!
We managed the drive to and from Connecticut without incident, listening to a talking book, a novel by Anna Quindlan, a writer I had enjoyed years ago when she wrote a column in the NYT.
We had a motel room, which enabled us to rest for an hour or so in the afternoon, and of course avoided the drive home at night.
So on this day when I was supposed to go with Merwin to the Philharmonic but couldn't (he is going with Laury), what am I thankful for? I have mentioned the family: what could be better than these loving, caring, good people? And here alone, I enjoy what I see. High up in the bedroom, a new little window (where there was an air conditioner until last year) shows fir branches waving in what seems a stiff breeze, with glimpses of bright sky beyond. I love this window and view. The bright reds and oranges in other windows have until recently overshadowed this little scene, but now it comes into vivid play. In the other windows, bare branches predominate, but the birds have not vanished: they flock to the bird feeders. I don't see naked branches as bare ruined choirs bereft of birds that Shakespeare wrote about. Like my dear friend Vaughan, I appreciate their architectural grace.
I am thankful for good friends, many of whom have written to tell me what I have meant to them. Better now than saved for the memorial service!
Work is a source of constant pleasure: I am thankful that Laury has sent our Measure for Measure edition to the general editor and the publisher. No doubt they will ask us to make changes, but for now it is done. I am almost finished with the essay Laury wanted me to write for her collection. Let's say penultimate draft. I can begin to turn more totally to hamletworks.org, the project that has given me so much pleasure in the making for many years, I am grateful to all the scholars who have contributed, especially Nick, one of my fellow editors and Jeffery, our brilliant and creative web master. And Michèle and Jesùs, and so many more.
Family, friends, work, nature, music—the list goes on.
Love to you all, so precious to me,
Bernice
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Bird Watching — no Turkeys
Click on an image to enlarge; click on back arrow to return to blog.Dear friends,
It is appropriate on this day before the anniversary of the publication of Darwin’s The Origin of Species to have something to say about birds and especially finches. On November 24, 1859 this amazing work was published and now, more than 150 years later, the robust concepts described remain entirely relevant. Darwin had it SO right.
Some frosty days are here in Glen Head, trees have shed their leaves, and I have filled my bird feeders. One general feeder is hanging just outside a window in Bernice’s study where she can watch the varied throng of feeding birds from her computer desk. Because she needs to keep her legs elevated her stays at her desktop computer are limited but the feeder is also visible from her study couch. One photo shows three goldfinches in their winter attire when it is difficult to distinguish the sexes. The males have long replaced their resplendent gold plumage they wear during the spring courting season to entice and woo females who are quite content to wear the same outfit throughout the year. Darwin discoursed quite correctly on such sexual displays and their significance in the mating game. Besides the goldfinches, house finches are frequent visitors to the feeder. Finches have strong beaks and will sit on the feeder perch a lengthy time and crack open the sunflower seeds in one swift motion after another too rapid for me to perceive. House finches with the male displaying a rosy breast are not native to our shores but were brought from Europe to be caged and have owners delight in their melodic chirpings. A few years ago an eye disease decimated the house finch numbers but they seem to have recovered now.
Another photo shows an acrobatic nuthatch clinging to the bottom of the feeder as prelude to his mounting one of the perches to feed. This is a hyperactive bird, moving in swift motions, and often seen moving down a branch upside down. I am always entertained by their little dances between getting single seeds. They seem to have the idea that this show is their payment for the offerings of the feeder.
In 1953 Mindy, Bernice’s older sister, gave us a Retina IIa camera that we used to takes family pictures and multitudes of travel photos well in to eighties. This was a fine film camera that produced pictures on colored, transparent slides that we viewed with a screen and projector. In the past few years I have scanned many of these slides into my computer and Harvey now has the little camera as part of his collection of interesting curiosities. Through our VISA card we have a rewards program, which we used for air travel but that activity has been shelved for a time, so when a camera purchase was offered I got a new Nikon Coolpix camera. The camera is a marvel and I am only now learning the simplest things it can do. These pictures are my first efforts to capture movement through panes of glass.
In contrast to the finches who stand at a perch for prolonged periods and feed, there are others who must visit the feeder only momentarily. The most common of these opportunistic visitors is the black-capped chickadee that flies to and from the feeder in an undulating, dolphin-like flight and grabs a single sunflower seed. Its beak lacks the strength of the finch so it retreats to a nearby branch and holds the seed with one foot while it pecks repeatedly until it cracks the husk and can devour the inner seed. It then rushes back for the next seed. I presume there is enough energy in each seed to make this feeding procedure payoff. Another bird practicing the same routine is the Tufted Titmouse, which sports a notable head crest and appears to have large wide open eyes. Cardinals occasionally visit but their larger size and the fact that they are generally ground feeders crimps their feeding efforts. None of the birds is especially neat in its feeding habits so there are dribs of seed that are scattered on the ground beneath the feeder where yet other birds and squirrels gather to do the cleanup. Keeping squirrels from a feeder is always a challenge and this feeder has an overhead umbrella-like shield that is very effective.
Downstairs, in my study I can look out at a specialized woodpecker feeder that is mounted from one of the 4x4 posts supporting our deck. We have had this feeder; a gift from Harvey, for many years and it caters to a distinct clientele able to get at the food. The feeder has two planks of simulated wood with an outer bark that provides a familiar foothold for the woodpeckers and sandwiched between is suet laced with a variety of seeds favored by the feeders. Woodpeckers have long beaks and longer tongues and are able to delve into the opening and get the food not accessible to other feeders. Other birds and squirrels do make unsuccessful assaults attracted by the aroma of good food. The most common woodpeckers are the pictured Downey woodpeckers. The male is distinguished by the small red patch on the back of his head. I have seen a pair of Downeys on the feeder and watched the male take piece of food and offer it to the female. Even though she is also feeding, she accepts his food gift. On occasion, more than one pair attempt to feed and there is a vigorous flutter of wings until one pair establishes dominance at the feeder and the other sulks in nearby trees until the feeder is available. More rarely, there are larger woodpeckers, notably the Red Headed and the Hairy woodpeckers.
There are two pest birds I do not welcome. One is the aggressive English sparrow that usually arrives in a flock, pushes what I consider the more deserving birds from the feeder, and can rapidly empty the feeder. This sparrow is another intruder brought from England in the 19th century to satisfy Shakespeare lovers who sought to recreate his world. Another pest, are the large, black crow-like birds which, I believe, should get their meals elsewhere.
Tomorrow we are leaving for Harvey and Sandy’s for the holiday. All four sons will be there as well daughter-in-laws, granddaughters, and other family and friends..
A very happy Thanksgiving to all,
Merwin
Monday, November 22, 2010
Nothing much new
Viburnum outside my triple-paned windowDear friends and family,
As soon as the red leaves fell, a couple of days after I loaded the picture on the blog, the hidden viburnum came into view. The Pollyanna in me says that when something lovely disappears from my life, something else takes it place. I sneer a bit about the Pollyanna attitude, but allow it a corner in my mind to counteract the self-pity I might otherwise allow myself to feel. My options get smaller; fatigue, itching, and now spleen pain are ever with me. But I force myself to look at whatever viburnum, so to speak, I can call up to replace the energy and activities no longer possible.
Today was a good example of compensation. Eli and Miriam spent a good hour with us. We have known each other for over 40 years and have much to talk about. They are in the book group that Merwin has been attending, and we share the same wedding anniversary—year and month. Our plan has always been to go out to dinner to celebrate our anniversaries—and this one is 60! I am thinking of take-out from a local restaurant. It's hard to imagine being able to spend 90 minutes sitting at a restaurant table. But take-out can be great too.
Later, our near daughter Dawn came over after her job interview at Nassau CC. We hope she gets the job! She was wearing an outfit I had given her (one of several). It was an expensive suit when I bought it about 6o years ago, and it was great to see it on her. I think I paid $18 for it with my employees' discount. I can only part with my beloved old clothes when I can give them to someone I know who will enjoy them as I did.
Laury came in the morning to work on the captions for the screen shots she had selected for our Measure for Measure edition. In a few days, our work will be sent to the publisher. At this point, with all her other responsibilities, she is doing most of the final edits as well as the photos. Wonderful Laury. What would I do without you?
In between the visits, I worked on the essay I am struggling to write. Also, I spoke to Harvey, Arthur and Dave. I told Dave I was reading an article about procrastination in The New Yorker. His immediate response was, "Did you finish it?" Once I got the joke (and it took a minute), I laughed and laughed.
Lots of love and laughs to all,
Bernice
Sunday, November 21, 2010
A good day in NYC
Dear friends and family,
Today is our son Lincoln’s birthday. Hooray Lincoln! What a wonderful person you have turned out to be.
Not a surprise because even as a child, he was remarkably caring about others—and brilliant. I know it’s wrong to brag about one's children, but Lincoln has special gifts. He knows how things work and knows how to explain how they work to others. All our children have admirable skills, each one very different from the others. It's been quite a trip. We took care of our sons—and now they take care of us. I feel so lucky.
Thanks to Laury, we had a good 24 hours or so in NYC. She dropped us off at the door at #32, where I was greeted with hugs from Ricardo, a witty doorman there, and then by Terry, the helpful porter. I felt that I was coming home. Though physically I was having one of my weak days, I was mentally energized by the city and very glad to be in our pied-a-terre. The view out the window of Bryant Park with all the surrounding buildings thrills me. Merwin got take-out food from my favorite restaurant in the neighborhood, Szechuan Gourmet, and we enjoyed a quiet evening, reading and listening to music.
The next morning, our almost 5th son Rick came to have breakfast with us. I felt up to walking to the corner of 40th and 6th to Pax, a chain restaurant offering very good value. Nothing fancy at all: pick up your food at various stations and choose a plastic table. But very tasty. Rick left us early, and we continued to enjoy our quiet time. In the afternoon we walked across the street into Bryant Park and stopped off at a few of the boutiques that pop up before Christmas. Laury picked us up and brought us home. What a dear!
Home again, I returned to the essay I am struggling to write for her collection of essays. It's coming along very slowly. My thinking is OK; I know what I want to say. The problem is just getting everything in order.
Unfortunately, Merwin is not feeling particularly well. It may have been set off by the Chinese food, though he did not eat the most spicy dish, the baby eggplant in garlic sauce, which is HOT! I am so aware of how much he does for me, how little I can do for him, and how much I need him.
I heard last evening by phone from an old conference friend. It was quite a surprise. Knowing that I am writing about Measure for Measure, he wants me to read something he has written about the play, an essay that he feels has been ignored by the Shakespeare establishment. I recognize the feeling. An essay I wrote about the play years ago has as far as I know never been cited by anyone. There is an Internet program that allows you to find out who has cited your work, but I don’t mind not knowing. I get my revenge by citing my old essay myself both in the Measure for Measure edition and in my current essay, So there!
I have wanted to write about the politics of citing the work of others. My colleagues definitely prefer to cite the well-known scholars, those that are known even to civilians, even if someone obscure like me has written something worth while. The relatively open community of Shakespeareans have their prejudices. I call the community “open” because from the beginning, I was welcomed in the most heartening way.
My good friend Ken Rothwell was partly responsible for that: he got me an invitation to join a seminar at the Modern Language Association the very first year I switched from Medieval Scottish literature to Shakespeare. Earlier that year, 1976, we had started the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, which has been absorbed into the Shakespeare Bulletin since 1992. Ken died about a week ago, having had a wonderful life as husband, father, scholar, teacher, athlete and friend.
Rambling on . . . .
Love,
Bernice
Today is our son Lincoln’s birthday. Hooray Lincoln! What a wonderful person you have turned out to be.
Not a surprise because even as a child, he was remarkably caring about others—and brilliant. I know it’s wrong to brag about one's children, but Lincoln has special gifts. He knows how things work and knows how to explain how they work to others. All our children have admirable skills, each one very different from the others. It's been quite a trip. We took care of our sons—and now they take care of us. I feel so lucky.
Thanks to Laury, we had a good 24 hours or so in NYC. She dropped us off at the door at #32, where I was greeted with hugs from Ricardo, a witty doorman there, and then by Terry, the helpful porter. I felt that I was coming home. Though physically I was having one of my weak days, I was mentally energized by the city and very glad to be in our pied-a-terre. The view out the window of Bryant Park with all the surrounding buildings thrills me. Merwin got take-out food from my favorite restaurant in the neighborhood, Szechuan Gourmet, and we enjoyed a quiet evening, reading and listening to music.
The next morning, our almost 5th son Rick came to have breakfast with us. I felt up to walking to the corner of 40th and 6th to Pax, a chain restaurant offering very good value. Nothing fancy at all: pick up your food at various stations and choose a plastic table. But very tasty. Rick left us early, and we continued to enjoy our quiet time. In the afternoon we walked across the street into Bryant Park and stopped off at a few of the boutiques that pop up before Christmas. Laury picked us up and brought us home. What a dear!
Home again, I returned to the essay I am struggling to write for her collection of essays. It's coming along very slowly. My thinking is OK; I know what I want to say. The problem is just getting everything in order.
Unfortunately, Merwin is not feeling particularly well. It may have been set off by the Chinese food, though he did not eat the most spicy dish, the baby eggplant in garlic sauce, which is HOT! I am so aware of how much he does for me, how little I can do for him, and how much I need him.
I heard last evening by phone from an old conference friend. It was quite a surprise. Knowing that I am writing about Measure for Measure, he wants me to read something he has written about the play, an essay that he feels has been ignored by the Shakespeare establishment. I recognize the feeling. An essay I wrote about the play years ago has as far as I know never been cited by anyone. There is an Internet program that allows you to find out who has cited your work, but I don’t mind not knowing. I get my revenge by citing my old essay myself both in the Measure for Measure edition and in my current essay, So there!
I have wanted to write about the politics of citing the work of others. My colleagues definitely prefer to cite the well-known scholars, those that are known even to civilians, even if someone obscure like me has written something worth while. The relatively open community of Shakespeareans have their prejudices. I call the community “open” because from the beginning, I was welcomed in the most heartening way.
My good friend Ken Rothwell was partly responsible for that: he got me an invitation to join a seminar at the Modern Language Association the very first year I switched from Medieval Scottish literature to Shakespeare. Earlier that year, 1976, we had started the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, which has been absorbed into the Shakespeare Bulletin since 1992. Ken died about a week ago, having had a wonderful life as husband, father, scholar, teacher, athlete and friend.
Rambling on . . . .
Love,
Bernice
Thursday, November 18, 2010
News of note
The black and white photo is of our family before Dave was born. Amy, the daughter of my dear friend Vaughan, had joined us for an outing. Merwin is holding Lincoln aloft. Arthur is in front of Lincoln. I have a hand on the shoulder of each older son, and Harvey is holding Amy's hand. Lincoln will be 50 in a few days. I recently posted a photo of the beautiful grown up Amy with her nieces: Here it is again, for your viewing pleasure.
As usual, click on a picture to make it bigger, and select backspace to return to the blog.
Dear friends and family,
We had an important visit with our local oncologist Dr. Anna Kurzyna. For once I had taken careful notes with questions I had, and she patiently listened and responded to each. She never gave any indication that she wanted to hurry. There are tests to be done, and she will be contacting Dr. Mascarenhas at Mt. Sinai to see if there is a drug trial I can get into.
Merwin had one question about me: what is the prognosis? She does not think he should worry abut anything imminent. I was out of the room, so I don't know exactly what she said to him. My main problems are the terrible itching, the fatigue, and the inability to stand in one spot (as I would like to do at the stove) or sit for long without putting my feet up. The sitting problem makes going to the theater, a movie, a restaurant well nigh impossible. The huge spleen is also an issue: it's impinging on my lungs, and I have trouble tying my shoe laces. It's the other three, though that make my life miserable.
I try to move on with my work in spite of it all. I am reading a very good book about Measure for Measure by Harriett Hawkins, an ever-cheerful scholar who could barely speak without breaking into a laugh. I very much enjoy visits from friends (Toby came yesterday), emails (thanks for yours today Jeffery, a real pick-me-up), phone calls from friends and family. Please keep them coming!
We are looking forward to NYC tomorrow. I think it will work very well. Looking forward is the way to go, right?
Love to all,
Bernice
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Rushing to write
Dear friends and family,Since my internet access is flaky, I am rushing to write before I am shot down. The photo above, part of the back yard, is one of three views I have of foliage from my recliner where I can put my feet up, a necessity to prevent pain in my legs. The other two views, at the side and front of the house, are fading now, many leaves having dropped, but all is still very lovely. I listen to classical music on channel 890, a soothing background. The itching, caused by my blood condition, is barely tolerable, but I am grateful that it subsided enough to let me sleep last night; the night before it had kept me up. Though this is torture, not akin to waterboarding perhaps but bad enough, there is a smile on my face.
Laury and I are completing work on Measure for Measure, and I am eager to return to hamletworks.org, especially since I have a date to talk about it at the New York Public Library on April 12th. I will attach the draft flyer that Jay, the man in charge of events for scholars and writers, sent me. I like the idea of looking forward in this way, projecting myself into the spring when the leaves will have returned. And I am launching myself mentally even further, to Avital's wedding in July. She and her family have been part of our lives since Harvey and Sandy moved to New Haven. And in the meantime, I am trying hard to live one day at a time, enjoying particular moments of pleasure with sons, Merwin, and friends, and with reading and writing: every day is full.
We plan to go to our city apartment this weekend, just an overnight. I don't expect to leave the apartment once I am there, but I will enjoy the view of Bryant Park and the skaters, and Rick will join us for breakfast on Sat. morning. That will be a treat.
Today, I am planning to get into my car and drive around a bit, just to acclimate myself to the feeling of being a driver again. I have not driven since July.
Fond greetings to all,
Love,
Bernice
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Concert Season has Begun
Click on image to enlarge; click on back arrow to return to blog.Dear friends,
Today was the first concert of the season in our chamber music series. The concerts, which we have attended for years, are held in an attractive venue called Hillwood Recital Hall on the Post University campus located only 15 minutes from our home. Our long time seats (we think they are the best in the house) are up four steps and in the first row of a section overlooking the performers in an unobstructed way. We thought, though, that these familiar seats would be a problem because if Bernice does not have her legs elevated the discomfort would prohibit staying for the concert. There is a low wall directly in front of our regular seats that would not allow this option. Luckily, I was able to switch seats and secure two where there is a wide aisle directly in front of the seats. We took Bernice’s wheelie, rode the elevator down one floor, and Bernice used the wheelie to keep her legs lifted for comforting periods during the recital. That is enough about the logistics and strategies we must now be conscious of and employ. We are already thinking of how we will manage our upcoming NY Philharmonic concert. These considerations are now part of our lives.
The concert itself was exceptional and we both enjoyed every part immensely. The program moved chronologically from Mozart, to Beethoven and concluded with Brahms’ wonderful clarinet quintet. I happen to have all these pieces on my iPod that furnishes the music for our home system, so the familiarity lent an extra pleasure. We have music on constantly at home and the pieces only occasionally receive our undivided attention but its presence provides a rich background we relish. When Bernice reaches the kitchen in the morning before I arrive her first words are often “music, music.”
Sorry, no pictures today but you can see our music program.
Our host for many years at these concerts is a talented pianist
(she performed in the Mozart piano quintet) who most often talks about the composer and the music in a short and interesting presentation in an introduction before each piece. She is very interested in music history and has visited many of the world’s music centers. She remarked on viewing some of Mozart’s original manuscripts and noting that they are amazingly pristine — no marks of revision, no cross outs, not even any stray drops of ink. Asked how it was that he composed, Mozart is reported to have answered that all the music is already in his head and his task is merely to transcribe it to paper. In contrast, Beethoven’s manuscripts bear heavy evidence of revision. Our commentator concluded that Beethoven had to work hard at creating his marvels.
We have heard the renowned Shanghai Quartet on prior occasions and they are excellent. The clarinet quintet featured the talented Igor Begelman who performed wonderfully. We saw a few friends at the concert and all were especially happy to see Bernice in the swim again.
On our way to the concert we pass our local farm and Bernice was anxious to stop and continue her adventure with cauliflower recipes. The farm will close on the day before Thanksgiving so we must take advantage of its proximity and wealth of fresh produce before then. We selected a great looking cauliflower picked today, some apples for baking, radishes, and what are probably the last of the field tomatoes. On our arrival home, Bernice, the whirlwind cook, went into action and issued command after command to me, her assistant and scullery maid. I could not report on the ingredients but there was olive oil and an assortment of spices and a 400-degree oven involved. Bernice was hungry and things moved quickly. We soon sat down and enjoyed a different version of cauliflower than we had just days ago. Don’t ask which I prefer. I like almost everything Bernice prepares and avoid being critical.
Love and healthy eating to all,
Merwin
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Memories
Dear Friends and family,
Memory is such a tricky thing. Merwin and I are always marveling at each other's special gifts and deficits. He can remember the names of all his grammar school teachers and all the students in his classes, at least through grammar school and often beyond. His father died when he was 4 years old, yet he has vivid memories of this loving man teaching him the names of constellations and autos, and then bragging to his friends when he had Merwin perform for them. My memory is spotty and more so now than ever. Merwin is amazed when I can come up with the words and tunes of songs I knew 60 years ago. We were watching a movie last night, and after the lead male sang the 1st line of an old song, I immediately and effortlessly sang the second line. Yet today I can't recall which song it was. Songs from old times come to me at odd moments, and I will enjoy singing the words I can recall.
My brain surgery has not improved my memory, but since Merwin's proximate memory sometimes fails him also, I understand that we both have deficits simply because of age (I hope) plus I have lapses because of the damaged brain. I never can tell what will surface and what will remain hidden from me, maybe forever. I am told fairly frequently now, "I told you that," or "We spoke about that." This is from children, usually.
I have to accept these reminders of my lapses along with everything else, and still there is a smile on my face because I still have so much. I am still admiring the trees, changing almost every day as they unfold their autumn beauty.
Merwin went shopping today, especially for bird seed but also for some other needed items, and I went along for the ride, remaining in the car. My outdoor life has been restricted by the slightly damaged foot (from a freezer packet falling on it), but clearly it is not broken, just sore. I expect to be OK on that front by tomorrow. Then perhaps I can return to my exercise program.
Though I am restricted in where I go, I rejoice in the many voices that speak to me through email. It would be great to hear from you.
Love to you all,
Bernice
Memory is such a tricky thing. Merwin and I are always marveling at each other's special gifts and deficits. He can remember the names of all his grammar school teachers and all the students in his classes, at least through grammar school and often beyond. His father died when he was 4 years old, yet he has vivid memories of this loving man teaching him the names of constellations and autos, and then bragging to his friends when he had Merwin perform for them. My memory is spotty and more so now than ever. Merwin is amazed when I can come up with the words and tunes of songs I knew 60 years ago. We were watching a movie last night, and after the lead male sang the 1st line of an old song, I immediately and effortlessly sang the second line. Yet today I can't recall which song it was. Songs from old times come to me at odd moments, and I will enjoy singing the words I can recall.
My brain surgery has not improved my memory, but since Merwin's proximate memory sometimes fails him also, I understand that we both have deficits simply because of age (I hope) plus I have lapses because of the damaged brain. I never can tell what will surface and what will remain hidden from me, maybe forever. I am told fairly frequently now, "I told you that," or "We spoke about that." This is from children, usually.
I have to accept these reminders of my lapses along with everything else, and still there is a smile on my face because I still have so much. I am still admiring the trees, changing almost every day as they unfold their autumn beauty.
Merwin went shopping today, especially for bird seed but also for some other needed items, and I went along for the ride, remaining in the car. My outdoor life has been restricted by the slightly damaged foot (from a freezer packet falling on it), but clearly it is not broken, just sore. I expect to be OK on that front by tomorrow. Then perhaps I can return to my exercise program.
Though I am restricted in where I go, I rejoice in the many voices that speak to me through email. It would be great to hear from you.
Love to you all,
Bernice
Friday, November 12, 2010
The work goes on
Dear friends and family,
Laury and I are reaching the last days of our collaboration on Measure for Measure; we had a hiatus of three months after my fall on July 23rd, and she has gently pushed me to work, always willing to come to me and work for as long or short a time as I am able. We just completed the acknowledgments, and today we may select the 8 or 9 photos for the book. There are a few holes to fill here and there before we send it to our supportive general editor, Jim Lake. There are many Focus editions ahead of ours, so they are not in a hurry for this play.
Another almost finished bit of work is an essay I wrote for Shakespeare Survey. The editorial staff will complete the necessary formatting changes—for which I am grateful.
So my only unfinished job is responding to the editorial staff's comments (which I have not received yet) for the essay I wrote for Shakespeare Quarterly; I hope i will receive this editorial work-over soon and that I can respond to it. But there is nothing I can do to speed up their process.
The larger work on the website hamletworks.org will be my major work for as long as I am able to do it. I originally chose such tasks (in the 1980s) because I could pick up and put down the work to blend with the many demands of teaching in a community college (till 1999). Now this pace works well for my condition.
I did want to write about what happened yesterday: Sonia's salmon patties (delicious), Rabbi Lee's visit (he loved my apple compote), the damage to my foot when a freezer container fell about 5 feet on it (scary and painful: I move too fast, even now), the continuing pleasure I get from the evolving scene outside my windows (now that the dogwood has lost its leaves I can see the brilliant red of the maple beyond it), and more. But there is tomorrow for recording daily activities and thoughts.
Love to all,
Bernice
Laury and I are reaching the last days of our collaboration on Measure for Measure; we had a hiatus of three months after my fall on July 23rd, and she has gently pushed me to work, always willing to come to me and work for as long or short a time as I am able. We just completed the acknowledgments, and today we may select the 8 or 9 photos for the book. There are a few holes to fill here and there before we send it to our supportive general editor, Jim Lake. There are many Focus editions ahead of ours, so they are not in a hurry for this play.
Another almost finished bit of work is an essay I wrote for Shakespeare Survey. The editorial staff will complete the necessary formatting changes—for which I am grateful.
So my only unfinished job is responding to the editorial staff's comments (which I have not received yet) for the essay I wrote for Shakespeare Quarterly; I hope i will receive this editorial work-over soon and that I can respond to it. But there is nothing I can do to speed up their process.
The larger work on the website hamletworks.org will be my major work for as long as I am able to do it. I originally chose such tasks (in the 1980s) because I could pick up and put down the work to blend with the many demands of teaching in a community college (till 1999). Now this pace works well for my condition.
I did want to write about what happened yesterday: Sonia's salmon patties (delicious), Rabbi Lee's visit (he loved my apple compote), the damage to my foot when a freezer container fell about 5 feet on it (scary and painful: I move too fast, even now), the continuing pleasure I get from the evolving scene outside my windows (now that the dogwood has lost its leaves I can see the brilliant red of the maple beyond it), and more. But there is tomorrow for recording daily activities and thoughts.
Love to all,
Bernice
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Drowsy dahlias
Click on image to enlarge; click on back arrow to return to blog.Hello all,
Each seasonal change has its own personality. For most life besides modern humans, autumn is one of preserving resources, preparing for days with less warmth and light, and practicing various forms of resting and sleeping in preparation for a future rejuvenation. For the past two days I have dug up and boxed my dahlias so they can survive a winter considered harsh and killing for these lovely tropical flowers whose ancestors never evolved to accommodate such weather. Just a few days ago the blog featured some pictures of my unsuspecting plants but two mild frosts withered and blackened the dahlia leaves and stalks and brought the proud flowers to the ground. Pictured is one of the three boxes of dahlia tubers partially filled. I carefully spade under a tuber clump, pull the whole clump up by the stalks that are then cut off. I remove the clods of earth and examine each clump. Some individual tubers have succumbed to attacks by worms or beetle larva and any of these pests must be removed along with unhealthy tubers. I do not want to provide a winter home and feast for any free loaders. The tubers are gently placed on a bed of peat moss (as pictured) and finally covered with more moss. The covered boxes spend the winter in the garage where the temperatures are more moderate than outside.
Gathering the dahlia tubers provided a lovely time for meditation and for thinking about the evolution of plant life. The first plants appeared hundreds of millions years ago and lived in a tropical environment where winter never imposed itself. Over time, some plant life gradually evolved to live in temperate zones and had to contend with less ideal conditions in which some form of dormancy was necessary for survival. A big revolution came with the appearance of deciduous plants that shed their leaves to contend with winter conditions. Some plants like the forsythia need a couple of hard frosts to set their growth for the spring. This prevents a premature flowering which could be induced my some mild Indian summer days. So, as I tucked in the last of the dahlia tubers I thought of how human preferences and interventions have greatly altered the “natural” boundaries of plant life.
Bernice and I met when we were 14 on December 17, 1947 (it is Bernice who remembers the date) but I was just days from my 15th birthday on December 25. The details of that grand meeting will have to await another telling but, as we realized later, we may have met a year earlier. The reason that I am writing of this is that Bernice mentioned in the prior blog that I have always enjoyed writing and now that I have acquired the blog bug I am reluctant to give up the pleasure. In the spring of 1946 I was in 8th grade and Bernice was in 7th grade, both in Buffalo schools. There was an Americanism contest held throughout all Buffalo grammar and high schools with the top prizes being an overnight trip to Washington, DC. I wrote on James Madison, the fourth US president and one of the influential founding fathers. Bernice wrote something more general. I won for my school and for my district but not citywide for all 8th grades. Bernice won all the way (she has always been a better writer) and went to Washington. There is 13-year-old Bernice, third from the left with the great hair, along with other winners and chaperones in front of Buffalo’s Hotel Statler and about to embark for Washington. This picture appeared in the Buffalo Evening News.
Good night everyone,
Merwin
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
No stopping Merwin
Dear Friends and family,
Many of you have written with appreciation for Merwin’s posts, which he has enjoyed writing. He’s not stopping; I am sure you will hear from both of us.
News yesterday of the death of my dear friend and colleague Ken Rothwell. I know that he was approaching, if not having already reached, 90, and had lived a full and rich life in so many ways. This past year alone he edited King Lear for Focus Publications.
We connected in 1976, when the Northeast Modern Language Association was meeting at UVM in his hometown, Burlington, VT., and where he was already a full professor. I had proposed to NEMLA a panel on Shakespeare on film, a new field then, and asked him to participate because he was one of the first to write on the topic. He agreed, and he hosted a gathering at his lovely home there, joined as always by his fascinating wife, Lyn (one of the first nurse practitioners in the state if not in the country). I proposed to him the idea of the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, and he leaped at the idea. We put out our 1st issue in Dec. 1976 and gave out free copies and gathered subscriptions at the Dec. meeting of the Modern Language Association. We jointly edited the newsletter until 1993, when it merged with the Shakespeare Bulletin, a performance journal. Ken and I shared platforms in many countries, when we each gave papers in the discipline. His valuable publications are too numerous to mention: I constantly refer to his filmography of Shakespearean films and his history of Shakespearean films. So much more to say about Ken: he was a gentleman and a scholar, an athlete, a loving father to four children, each very different from the others. A tall, imposing figure, he always kept his zest for life, for scholarship, for friends and family. His work will go on.
Why a blog: I have the feeling that if I write, I can capture my days, which otherwise would slip away, un-noted and unnoticed. And how many more will there be? Got to hang on to all of them.
Yesterday was a heavy-duty day for me. My cheerful aide Sonia was here, and she put me through all my paces: a walk around the block without a cane, the exercise regimen left by Bill (many require someone to work with me, resisting my movements), the stationary bicycle, and of course kitchen work. We made apple tart again, but I let it bake too long, so it is more like apple sauce. It is delicious, though. Sonia, who does not cook or bake, is full of wonder at my readiness to improvise. We added lemon juice to the 12 or so apples (cut up with skin left on), dried prunes and frozen strawberries. We also prepared Sami’s roasted cauliflower: as she wrote, “addictive”! I couldn't stop nibbling. Next week we'll get another cauliflower from Rothkamp Farm and make Sandy's version, with onion, potato and more spices (but not too many).
Later in the day, realizing that the zucchini I had gotten at the farm needed to be cooked, I peeled and sliced them and gave them the same treatment. Also good, but not quite as delicious because they lack the firmness of cauliflower.
Today dear Kathryn came for lunch, and I presented all these dishes: cauliflower, zucchini, and apple compote (we'll call it). I eat too much! I enjoyed her lively company. She woke me up sufficiently to get me here to the blog.
A demain!
Love,
Bernice
Many of you have written with appreciation for Merwin’s posts, which he has enjoyed writing. He’s not stopping; I am sure you will hear from both of us.
News yesterday of the death of my dear friend and colleague Ken Rothwell. I know that he was approaching, if not having already reached, 90, and had lived a full and rich life in so many ways. This past year alone he edited King Lear for Focus Publications.
We connected in 1976, when the Northeast Modern Language Association was meeting at UVM in his hometown, Burlington, VT., and where he was already a full professor. I had proposed to NEMLA a panel on Shakespeare on film, a new field then, and asked him to participate because he was one of the first to write on the topic. He agreed, and he hosted a gathering at his lovely home there, joined as always by his fascinating wife, Lyn (one of the first nurse practitioners in the state if not in the country). I proposed to him the idea of the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, and he leaped at the idea. We put out our 1st issue in Dec. 1976 and gave out free copies and gathered subscriptions at the Dec. meeting of the Modern Language Association. We jointly edited the newsletter until 1993, when it merged with the Shakespeare Bulletin, a performance journal. Ken and I shared platforms in many countries, when we each gave papers in the discipline. His valuable publications are too numerous to mention: I constantly refer to his filmography of Shakespearean films and his history of Shakespearean films. So much more to say about Ken: he was a gentleman and a scholar, an athlete, a loving father to four children, each very different from the others. A tall, imposing figure, he always kept his zest for life, for scholarship, for friends and family. His work will go on.
Why a blog: I have the feeling that if I write, I can capture my days, which otherwise would slip away, un-noted and unnoticed. And how many more will there be? Got to hang on to all of them.
Yesterday was a heavy-duty day for me. My cheerful aide Sonia was here, and she put me through all my paces: a walk around the block without a cane, the exercise regimen left by Bill (many require someone to work with me, resisting my movements), the stationary bicycle, and of course kitchen work. We made apple tart again, but I let it bake too long, so it is more like apple sauce. It is delicious, though. Sonia, who does not cook or bake, is full of wonder at my readiness to improvise. We added lemon juice to the 12 or so apples (cut up with skin left on), dried prunes and frozen strawberries. We also prepared Sami’s roasted cauliflower: as she wrote, “addictive”! I couldn't stop nibbling. Next week we'll get another cauliflower from Rothkamp Farm and make Sandy's version, with onion, potato and more spices (but not too many).
Later in the day, realizing that the zucchini I had gotten at the farm needed to be cooked, I peeled and sliced them and gave them the same treatment. Also good, but not quite as delicious because they lack the firmness of cauliflower.
Today dear Kathryn came for lunch, and I presented all these dishes: cauliflower, zucchini, and apple compote (we'll call it). I eat too much! I enjoyed her lively company. She woke me up sufficiently to get me here to the blog.
A demain!
Love,
Bernice
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Dear friends and family,
Two wonderful responses came in for cauliflower recipes. Just in time. They are very similar except the one from Sandy specifically mentions many spices from which to choose while the one from Sami just mentions spices to taste. Sonia, my aide, a retired nurse, will help me prepare this dish. Sonia comes to us twice a week courtesy of our long-term care insurance. Basically, both recipes call for small pieces, with olive oil or walnut oil (Sami) or canola oil (Sandy: never olive oil!), baked till brown. Sandy also adds onion and potato pieces. Today, I start with Sami’s recipe, using cumin as the spice, one of my favorites. Before Rothkamp Farm closes, I will get another cauliflower and try Sandy's. Actually, the one I put together myself is very similar, except I stewed it rather than baking it: onion, mushroom, small pieces of potato, turmeric, and finally a scrambled egg once it was done. 1/4 of a caulifower made 4 meals! three for me and one for Merwin. I can eat the same thing every day.
This is the first week that I am completely without helpers from Visiting Nurses of NYC. All of them were wonderful: Dimary, my 3x a week aide; Ronnie, the nurse; and Bill, the physical therapist. I am grateful to all of them; I hate losing them as part of my life. Bill was the last one to go—and he gave me a kiss and told me I could contact him any time if I had questions or concerns. He lives close by, but I doubt I will bother him. Sonia is a great help with the exercises, most of which require another person.
It's a beautiful sunny day here today, and Sonia and I will go for a walk first thing. It's chilly but invigorating. Breakthrough today: I got the NYT on our driveway; it's tricky because it's a hill, ut I did it.
Love to all,
Bernice
Two wonderful responses came in for cauliflower recipes. Just in time. They are very similar except the one from Sandy specifically mentions many spices from which to choose while the one from Sami just mentions spices to taste. Sonia, my aide, a retired nurse, will help me prepare this dish. Sonia comes to us twice a week courtesy of our long-term care insurance. Basically, both recipes call for small pieces, with olive oil or walnut oil (Sami) or canola oil (Sandy: never olive oil!), baked till brown. Sandy also adds onion and potato pieces. Today, I start with Sami’s recipe, using cumin as the spice, one of my favorites. Before Rothkamp Farm closes, I will get another cauliflower and try Sandy's. Actually, the one I put together myself is very similar, except I stewed it rather than baking it: onion, mushroom, small pieces of potato, turmeric, and finally a scrambled egg once it was done. 1/4 of a caulifower made 4 meals! three for me and one for Merwin. I can eat the same thing every day.
This is the first week that I am completely without helpers from Visiting Nurses of NYC. All of them were wonderful: Dimary, my 3x a week aide; Ronnie, the nurse; and Bill, the physical therapist. I am grateful to all of them; I hate losing them as part of my life. Bill was the last one to go—and he gave me a kiss and told me I could contact him any time if I had questions or concerns. He lives close by, but I doubt I will bother him. Sonia is a great help with the exercises, most of which require another person.
It's a beautiful sunny day here today, and Sonia and I will go for a walk first thing. It's chilly but invigorating. Breakthrough today: I got the NYT on our driveway; it's tricky because it's a hill, ut I did it.
Love to all,
Bernice
Monday, November 8, 2010
Bernice is back
Hello everyone,
I am back! Merwin has been urging me to resume my blog, but he has been so good at it that I have hesitated to get on board. Thanks to Harvey, I now have a setup that allows me to keep my legs raised, and I can sit on my recliner while typing. I think I will ask Merwin if we can take turns. Since we heard from a dear friend yesterday who was happy to learn that I was on the road to recovery, Merwin has felt that he should perhaps be more forthright about my situation. I believe that I have recovered as fully as I ever will from the brain surgery (but hoping for improved memory as time goes on) and the back surgery (but hoping for good pain management). But the chronic condition remains. Now I am back to square one, dealing with the cancer. There is no cure. All I can hope for is good days, like this one. There is no pain from the disease, just fatigue and itching and some other inconvenient side effects, like needing to keep my legs elevated. I hope to be on another drug trial as soon as I can travel into NYC easily, and I think that could be soon, since our trip to Mt. Sinai as few weeks ago went very well. A new drug might relieve some symptoms.
Whatever my physical condition, I almost always have a smile on my face—as I do now while chatting with you, looking out my windows at the still vibrant leaves. I am looking forward to going back to our little studio in NYC, perhaps walking around the block to one of my favorite restaurants, Szechuan Gourmet (or more likely getting take-out), looking out the window at Bryant Park and watching the ice skaters. I know I have to conserve energy. An hour is about my limit for an outing. Someone will have to drive us to NYC. I am thinking about how this apartment, empty since I left Mt. Sinai in early Sept., will get cleaned before we come. Such things dance in my head—along with recipes for dishes featuring cauliflower, of all things. We bought a big, beautiful one at Rothcamps Farm, a half mile from our house. The farm stand will close the day before Thanksgiving, and the best vegetable they have are these gorgeous, huge pure white heads. Does anyone have a good recipe? I made a curry, enough for four people, with about 1/6 of the head. Help!
My Shakespeare work is a great joy to me. Today I am sending, via email, an essay on a Hamlet production to Shakespeare Studies. It was accepted over a year ago, but they had no room for it until this coming issue (they publish only once a year). The editor gave me a chance to look it over again and make changes. Merwin and Toby made suggestions, and I noticed a few sentences that could be clearer. Then there is my work on our website hamletworks.org, and of course wrapping up Measure for Measure, with my dear friend Laury. It’s a great life.
Love to all, Bernice
I am back! Merwin has been urging me to resume my blog, but he has been so good at it that I have hesitated to get on board. Thanks to Harvey, I now have a setup that allows me to keep my legs raised, and I can sit on my recliner while typing. I think I will ask Merwin if we can take turns. Since we heard from a dear friend yesterday who was happy to learn that I was on the road to recovery, Merwin has felt that he should perhaps be more forthright about my situation. I believe that I have recovered as fully as I ever will from the brain surgery (but hoping for improved memory as time goes on) and the back surgery (but hoping for good pain management). But the chronic condition remains. Now I am back to square one, dealing with the cancer. There is no cure. All I can hope for is good days, like this one. There is no pain from the disease, just fatigue and itching and some other inconvenient side effects, like needing to keep my legs elevated. I hope to be on another drug trial as soon as I can travel into NYC easily, and I think that could be soon, since our trip to Mt. Sinai as few weeks ago went very well. A new drug might relieve some symptoms.
Whatever my physical condition, I almost always have a smile on my face—as I do now while chatting with you, looking out my windows at the still vibrant leaves. I am looking forward to going back to our little studio in NYC, perhaps walking around the block to one of my favorite restaurants, Szechuan Gourmet (or more likely getting take-out), looking out the window at Bryant Park and watching the ice skaters. I know I have to conserve energy. An hour is about my limit for an outing. Someone will have to drive us to NYC. I am thinking about how this apartment, empty since I left Mt. Sinai in early Sept., will get cleaned before we come. Such things dance in my head—along with recipes for dishes featuring cauliflower, of all things. We bought a big, beautiful one at Rothcamps Farm, a half mile from our house. The farm stand will close the day before Thanksgiving, and the best vegetable they have are these gorgeous, huge pure white heads. Does anyone have a good recipe? I made a curry, enough for four people, with about 1/6 of the head. Help!
My Shakespeare work is a great joy to me. Today I am sending, via email, an essay on a Hamlet production to Shakespeare Studies. It was accepted over a year ago, but they had no room for it until this coming issue (they publish only once a year). The editor gave me a chance to look it over again and make changes. Merwin and Toby made suggestions, and I noticed a few sentences that could be clearer. Then there is my work on our website hamletworks.org, and of course wrapping up Measure for Measure, with my dear friend Laury. It’s a great life.
Love to all, Bernice
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Writing Group Night
Click image to enlarge; click back arrow to return to blog.
Good evening all,
I want everyone to see how Bernice is managing to work for hours at her computer every day between time devoted to her exercises, short walks, and the normal sustaining activities. She is in her bedroom and is seated in her recliner with her legs elevated. Getting her legs raised is all-important for when she tries to work at her big desktop computer it is fatigue/pain in her legs that frustratingly shortens her sessions there. The recliner has a side lever that raises and lowers the leg rest. We were lucky to get this modest-sized recliner and it was with the help of son Arthur just after Bernice's fall in March which broke her pelvis. Arthur and Debbie picked up the recliner at that time and it is serving splendidly now. Son Harvey is responsible for his mom's dandy new laptop which is resting on a convenient lap rest that has a beanbag-like bottom and a flat top surface to support the computer. Next to her is her multi-shelf cabinet that holds all her current working papers as well as her phone and whatever. I must tell you that Bernice complains that my unskilled photography distorts and enlarges her feet so I am confident that all of you can overlook these shortcomings.
While I am keying this in I am in my downstairs study and Bernice is with her writing group upstairs in her study, I have written before about this group who have been together some 30 years to read their writings to each other and receive thoughtful and helpful criticism. These gatherings are private and never attended by outsiders. When the reading session is over we will all sit down for a dinner made up of interesting and always tasty contributions from the group............. It is now post-dinner and i am mellowed from good food and dessert. A spinach pie, salad, couscous with beans, crusty breads, and pumpkin-cheese pie and cookies. The guests have departed after helping with much of the cleanup and it is time for me to windup.
I have decided to say nothing of the election. After all, what could I say? Could I repeat the observation that many of the very people who have ranted against the health care bill and been taken in by masterful media ranters, are often the very ones who will benefit. They are either not aware that we are the only industrialized country lacking universal health care and we had 50 million citizens with no health insurance at all. Would i have the temerity to remind these folks that it was Bush who entered office with a surplus, got us into two terribly expensive wars in terms of our treasure of wealth and human life, who oversaw the economic crash and left office with a monstrous deficit the right has whined about? No, better to skip these issues and go quietly. I might consider commenting on those against any climate legislation who insist that global warming is a sham or wonder about the qualifications of new legislators who might have to deal with education issues but do not believe in evolution. No, i see that it is fruitless to make any election comments at all except to say that if there is some entity somewhere at all concerned with our welfare, I do hope she will lessen our discomfort.
A better night to all,
Merwin
Monday, November 1, 2010
Before the First Frost
Click to enlarge image; click the back arrow to return to the blog.
Good early evening all,
The weather forecast is for our first frost of the season but that is a little uncertain. When it does occur there is a drastic alteration in some of the plant life. I ran out with my new camera to capture our own local scene before the decisive event. The pink dahlias will suffer, wilt, and blacken. My patch of dahlias have produced a continuing blaze of colorful blossoms since the spring. These plants are native to the deep south and would not survive here without loving help. Sometime this month I will repeat my annual ritual to preserve their beauty for another season. I dig up the tubers, discard the leaves and spent flowers, and put each tuber to sleep in a covering of peat moss in a cardboard box. The boxes are put in the garage where there is never a full freeze. In the spring just after Mother's day I will pull the tubers briefly into the daylight and then bury them in the garden for another satisfying season. Some years ago I had dahlias in a variety of colors but I have observed my own mini-evolutionary event. Each spring some of the tubers do not survive the overwintering. Among the survivors I select the largest with the most numerous little shoots and divide these. This selection pressure has now resulted in the survival of almost exclusive pink dahlias you see pictured here. The next picture shows one of my chrysanthemums, a bit bedraggled from recent wind and rain but doing its best to satisfy me. The photo also illustrates my limited camera skills as I have no idea why some images are blurry and others wonderfully sharp. In the final photo of the trio, the young dogwood is displaying its scarlet statement which it assumed after its initial russet. Bernice is pleasured by this foliage which she can see while sitting in her recliner in her bedroom. This is its final color change and this is the color that will briefly adorn our grounds until our fallen leaves are gathered for recycling.
Today Bernice and I went to our Waldbaum supermarket for a big shop. This was another step towards normalization for Bernice. Bernice took her wheelie and it proved to be an indispensable accompaniment for she could use it to move about, stand and examine goods, and to sit on it for occasional rests. It also represented a welcome change to have Bernice give me shopping directions instead of from one of her lists. While we were in the shopping center we decided to get something to bring home for lunch and ended up at the bagel store buying chopped whitefish on a seeded bagel for each of us. Today's bagels have grown so oversized, unlike the sensible bagels of our youth, that we could only eat a half each. The outing really tired Bernice and reduced her energy to complete planned literary tasks.
In the morning Bill the PT person came for his penultimate visit and, always pushing Bernice to the next level, suggested taking their walk sans cane. Bernice, at first flabbergasted at the suggestion, complied and was very pleased when she was able to walk unaided around the block. Bill says that her best exercise is walking but advises that she should use the cane where there may be other people or the terrain is uneven.
The progress Bernice is making in the physical realm is heartening and this is largely a recovery from her terrible fall and the subsequent brain surgery but increasingly she must contend with the symptoms of her underlying blood condition. That is another battle to be won.
A good night to all,
Merwin
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