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Disorganization personified, music, and faith and computing - but zero attention spa..
She hoed, but she was hoeing mechanically now. Twice she caught herself about to decapitate a potato.I'm still with Hans Fallada's Alone in Berlin (published in the US as 'Every Man Dies Alone') which I teased from two weeks back. This quote comes from a brief (and very welcome) pastoral interlude before the darkness closes in.
sudo update-manager -dwhich told me there was a new release (in Beta) I proceeded and almost immediately got a python crash:
ImportError: No module named deprecationa bit of web searching gave me the solution and I downloaded and installed python-apt_0.7.94.2ubuntu3_amd64.deb. This took me once I restarted the upgrade, a little further until it stopped with the cryptic error:
E:Error, pkgProblemResolver::Resolve generated breaks, this may be caused by held packages.and told me that I might be trying to install a beta version (gosh!). This took me a little time to resolve, did a lot of searching around broken packages and removed a few which really ought to have long gone but a look at /var/log/dist-upgrade/main.log and the apt.log should have told me that the problem was the empathy package (an instant messenger) which claimed that there was a broken depends upon empathy-common (which I didn't have!) I removed empathy and it started downloading the new version of the operating system (all 2000+ packages!) this took some time but eventually prompted me to reboot. I rebooted and got to the screen where I select which operating system to run and the new version wasn't there! I tried the old version(which was still there and inevitably that crashed nastily as the only thing left of that was the Linux kernel! Fortunately I had installed other versions of Linux on the hard drive - if not I could have used a rescue disk - and from one of those edited the grub menu - which allows selection between them - to include the new version.
Blue insidefrom torch song tango choir by Julie Sophia Paegle to be published in the Summer (University of Arizona Press)- unfortunately I can't find a good link for the book, but enjoy the poem it reminds me of hot summers and rockpools!
obsidian, blue of compression,
blue of the fleck
and of flash-
cooled glass. We anchor
volcanic, and fast.
We embrace
and make changeful our
beach. We bury.
Between, we
breach -- our numbers our
read -- but do
not be fooled
by the forfeit of blue,
that sad shadow mim-
icry shift-
ing on waves, or within.
Not slate, nor
azure, we
are devotion to tidal
recession,
we turn to the
backing away of the ocean
as cicadas
turn to their
seventeenth year, as delphinia
gravely follow
the sun, not
unlike some seraphim long
after faltering.
I love flowers more and more.Dom Helder Camara
They speak to me
of how ephemeral life is
and make me face up
to eternity.
I was filled with so much love for Bartolomeo that I feared I would burst if something did not happen soon. What that something was I did not know, for Mama kept me in a state of such complete innocence that at the age of seventeen I still did not know where babies came from, and thought that menstruation was the monthly consequence of eating too many artichokes.Innocence, librarianship and cooking in rural Sicily. A sort of Italian equivalent of 'Like Water for Chocolate'. From the comments on Amazon it looks as if the resemblance to that book is a little too close! I'm also reading this as part of my 2010 Bibliophilic books challenge.
As things stand the Persickes are somewhat compromised. They won't suffer any consequences, but they'll be the subject of gossip within the Party. They'll lose a little of their reputation for reliability.From our book group's book of the month - Hans Fallada's Alone in Berlin (aka Every Man Dies Alone). A story of ordinary people under the 3rd Reich and the resistance of an isolated couple. It's a long read - apparently it was written in a month. Here's the review from the Independent, the Guardian was less keen.
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring--
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.
The entertaining and friendly type. They are especially attuned to pleasure and beauty and like to fill their surroundings with soft fabrics, bright colors and sweet smells. They live in the present moment and don´t like to plan ahead - they are always in risk of exhausting themselves.I think I cam out as INFP last time I tried one of these (no doubt approximate) web forms - but tested on myself.
The enjoy work that makes them able to help other people in a concrete and visible way. They tend to avoid conflicts and rarely initiate confrontation - qualities that can make it hard for them in management positions.
In different species, I noted varieties of modesty or arrogance, honesty or shiftiness, and in one 150-kilovolt type in ubiquitous use in southern Finland I even detected a coquettish sexuality in the way the central mast held out a delicate hand to its conductor wire. The unspoken challenge for transmission engineers seemed to be to fashion a pylon which would subliminally read as possessing much the same blend of psychological and physical virtues as one might search for in an ideal friend or lover.
Sun-treader, light and life be thine forever!a homage to Shelley and as such acts as a fitting tribute to that lover of Shelley, Michael Foot, who died yesterday.A man of principle who remained positive even when the rubbish of politics was being thrown at him. He didn't fit well with today's image conscious media driven politics. As the Guardian obituary (linked above) records:
When a general election was called in 1935, he walked into Labour's headquarters, asked for a list of constituencies that needed candidates, and was adopted the next day for Monmouth. Politics was simpler in those days.
Une herbe pauvre, sauvage,Here's a link containing an English translation (pdf document) if you need it.
apparut dans la neige,
c’était la santé.
Ma bouche fut émerveillée
du goût d’air pur qu’elle avait,
elle était fanée
Those sunny days in Clare Street, working in Aunt Florence's shop, for example. They made things then. Things that would last, things that you could look at, admire.From Part 2 of Christine Dwyer Hickey's Dublin Trilogy 'the gambler'. Having enjoyed her latest book 'The Last train from Liguria', I wanted to try some of her other work, I'm currently struggling rather with this, but am still hoping that I, or it, settle down!