Youmans (pronounced like 'yeoman' with an 's' added)
is the best-kept secret among contemporary American writers.
--John Wilson, editor, Books and Culture

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Rainbow days

Tomorrow's upcoming tagged confession: my weirdnesses. Or the first five that spring to mind.

Today is a good day in the winter-hard village of Templeton. Woke up to three children who didn't want to go to school but went without too much protest anyway, plus another request for a story in my email box.

And it's not all that brutal and Yankee-cold, considering. The turn of the year has been strangely warm, and this is the first winter without a completely frozen-over lake in more than a hundred years. Or so I hear. Fenimore Cooper would be astonished to see his Glimmerglass without its pack of ice and sprinkling of hardy fishers with bourbon in their pockets. Or maybe that's the Southerner in me. They probably don't take either moonshine or bourbon...

This week has been bright enough to make the solar rainbow-caster hurl rainbows about the playroom and confuse Theodora the calico. Her head twitches as though in a frenzy of cat-chiropracty. The rainbowy peacock heart-eye is in her honor, as she desires a drooping feather as much as she does rainbows. She has eaten most of the once-bountiful peacock feathers. But she hasn't yet figured out how to eat a rainbow. Any moment now I expect to see her racing out of the room with a small patch of prismatic light held between her pearly teeth.

Maybe I'll stick Theodora in the next story, rainbow in mouth.

Photo credit:
royalty free, by Neza,
"heart in peacock feather: peacock loves peahen,"
www.sxc.hu/

2 comments:

  1. Yes, put the lovely Theodora in a story. The peacock feather is beautiful. And your oddities in today's post (wise to stay in childhood oddities, though it is of course obvious from your writings that your are the paragon of prosaic normality--ha!) are fascinating. My sons (but not my daughter) share your hatred of clothing tags; particularly my now grown up eldest. My daughter was simply super sensitive to color and style, from 4 months on. I swear she quit crying when I promised she could dress herself as soon as she was physically able, and I would never, never put the ugly sleeper with Winnie-the-Pooh on her again.
    I break chain letters too, almost always. But sometimes one must play against type.

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  2. So you are boy-girl-boy? Me too. And I may use that Theodora--and even add Lady Azure, the blue Persian from outer space. She has a heart murmur and has close to the personality of a floppy stuffed toy... A live toy.

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Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.