Frost was predicted last night, so I went out and gathered boughs of tomatoes, still green, and have hung them in the laundry room upstairs, hoping they may ripen there. Then I picked all the tender little flowers I could find - nasturtium, cosmos, a few bachelor's-buttons, a few late roses - and finally potted three begonias and red geraniums to bring into the house. The begonias have thrived remarkably, first as house plants last winter, then outdoors all summer. A sturdy plant is a great comfort.
~ May Sarton, in Journal of a Solitude
I thrifted a wonderful Nichols & Stone rocking chair yesterday and spent all evening in it directly in front of the wood stove with the above book, writing, making some little paintings and also reading some ee cummings and pablo neruda out loud to the dog, who seemed pleased. Reading poetry out-loud is nice, especially when I'm not sure what's going on ~ then, bam, a line or a phrase hits and I fall silent.
that happened here:
and the rain's wings
the birds of snow
~ ee cummings
My love, to my life
you came prepared
as a poppy and as a guerrilla fighter
~ pablo neruda