Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Falling toward Easter


As it is a busy week in the snowdrifts of upstate New York, I shall just wish friends and passers-by a happy and blessed Easter-to-be.

And if you are in need of some writing advice while I am out-of-the-palace, please take this: "'Begin at the beginning,' the King said, very gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'"

That is, of course, from the immortal nib of a pen held by Lewis Carroll or Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, the kaleidoscopic, the myriad-talented, and the Reverend. Ah, to be born under the tilted grin of a Cheshire moon, caught in the branches of the Daresbury parsonage tree!

I am glad of his tenderness for little girls because he gave me a gift at an early age that has served me all my life and given me much joy.



Here's an on-line poem of mine that just popped up today: "Homomonojot" at The Round Table Review (U. K.) If you're wondering where the name came from, it is a portmanteau word (thank you again, Lewis Carroll) that puts together bits of "homonym" + "monometer" + "jot." Does that sound a little smart-alecky? Blame it on the one-stress lines. Thanks to Jon Stone for suggesting that I submit to The Great Monometer Challenge.



The contemporary Alice falling into a marvelous rabbit hole can be found on DeviantArt; it is by "Tahra" or Kyoung Hwan Kim of South Korea. Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.


  1. that is a great quote! and such a colorful picture

    happy easter to you!

  2. ah, Marly...if only i could whisk some warm zephyr friends your way i'd do so in a minute. But you know us zephyrs...while we like to think we are free to zip or whip or whisk or whisper wherever and whenever we feel like it, in reality we are ruled by a very controlling master, that being Mr. Jet Stream and he is being very dictatorial right now.

    On a more jolly note, i totally enjoyed your Homomonojots! Totally delightful.

    Here's hoping Mr. Stream lets up really soon...and that your Easter is pleasant either way.

  3. Susanna,

    We could live our lives according to the wisdom of Lewis Carroll and do pretty well.

    And he's a great mentor for you: after all, who invented the Mad Hatter?


    Letter received! Answer forthwith.


    I added the Homomonojot-link later than the rest, so I'm glad you caught it. I'm afraid that I could have nattered on for hours until the homonyms ran out.

    Got up in the wee hours, awakened by a blinding light: finally got an idea for a bicentennial hymn commission. And I could have used a few zephyrs wafting about my shoulders and toes.

  4. yes! Its Susangalique at work! hahahaaaa the mad hatter herself.

    I am going to have dive into Carroll and see what I find.

  5. I changed to my early spring hat, the rest of me is in black of course

  6. Nice chapeau, Susanna.

    I can't think of black without conjuring up poet and artist and one-time roommate Susan Hankla, who always used to say, "Black, the fat girl's friend." I don't know what she says now.

    She wasn't fat...

  7. Happy Easter Marly.

    I couldn't write at school because they've taken away our capability to look at blogs. How sad.

    Anyway, have a delightful Easter, we're off on break this week.

  8. Same to you, Donna--

    Aren't human administrations sweet? There's nothing like confidence in the self-discipline and maturity of workers.

  9. Yours is so witty, and while I liked some of the others, I liked yours best.

  10. I am just downright abashed, Miss Laura. That a Parisian-hopping woman who can paint water like nobody's business should like my little jots... Well, thank you very much!

    And happy Easter--

  11. Oh my ears and whiskers!

    Happy Easter, Marly.

  12. Happy Easter, Lucy--

    I like that bit, and Easter's an excellent day for rabbits: "Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead: before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a comer, 'Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!' She was close behind it when she turned the comer, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof."

    And now I'm about to be late for my next destination, so--I'm off.


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.