Fan mail

“Seventeen, eh!" said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred.
"Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?"
"Vaguely," said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?"
"I forge’ the details," Hagrid chortled.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!”

 ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Having it all plus the laundry

Life is mostly froth and bubble,

Two things stand like stone,

Kindness in another's trouble,

Courage in your own.

***

Here I am, emerging from that strange other world which revolves mechanically around cut lunches, soaking socks, supervised music lessons (I use that term loosely, as I listen and shout encouragement from another room while stirring white sauce), Year Two Home Readers, water balloon games, unwrapped birthday presents, wiped food spills and overdue library books.  That is just my spare time. The bulk of the day is spent in the Big Open Plan Office reading and writing stuff of serious bureaucratic importance.  In addition to which, my work is entirely conducted in front of a computer screen.  In the remaining shreds of time at the day's end, therefore, I have hardly the energy to sit in front of computer even for leisure.  So this space if often neglected.

Lots of other women in this city juggle making or administering public policy with changing the sheets and pressing school uniforms. Most of my friends and colleagues are on the same mouse wheel. Sometimes I wonder if the hard-fought-for gains of the feminist movement weren't a little skewed.  It takes an exceptional person and lots of outsourcing of domestic tasks to keep a family afloat with two parents working outside the home.  Plus good parking or a fast commuter system.  I don't think you can really 'have it all'.  But the childcare industry, and a fear of not being able to exercise choice over essential items like health and education, creates an environment where we think we can, and possibly should 'have it all'. 

I read a ministerial press release today about measures to increase the standards of childcare in Australia.  It was citing the introduction of improved carer-to-child ratios and enhanced minimum training for childcare workers as huge advancements.  Indeed they may be.  But a small quiet voice in my head still thought that the care of children is best undertaken by a parent at home for the bulk of the time and that we have created an artificial industry out of Children's Services.   This is an issue I wrestle with daily. 

What do I tell my daughters and son as they work out their own careers? Am I doing the right thing? Is this a good example? Will I look back with regret at my efforts to 'have it all'?



Verse: Adam Lindsay Gordon, Ye Wearie Wayfarer

Images: Single quilt covers.  Laundry.

Fancy that

Peace, quiet and rest is her message,
Tired scenery heeds her call;
This gracious lady of Autumn,
Loveliest season of all.


Pamela Summers

***


My latest online obsession is TheFancy.Com. It's been suggested it will be a strong rival to Pinterest and appeal more to men.  I do prefer its unfussy look. 


My 11 yo thinks it pretty cool too. She shares my love of images although her focus is on photograghs of rad swimming pools, miniature terriers and lego constructions, and the thrill of sharing it with girl friends on the ipod.  She's enjoying a far richer slide-show before her eyes than the black and white world of my childhood.


Didn't Autumn come around quickly? I could do with that stamp.  This year has me flummoxed.  No stable work routine.  Home activities all over the place.  Still no decision on the blinds.


Image: Office Speak Rotating Stamp
Quote: On my desk calendar 2 March 2012

Denzil, Apprentice Wizard

Another rollicking book series which has captivated my nine year old son is The Adventures of Denzil, Apprentice Wizard written by New Zealand children's fantasy writer, Sherryl Jordan. We have been progressively working our way through this charming and funny set of books about the exploits of Denzil, the boy wizard, and his master, the great wizard Valvasor.

Unwittingly transported to modern times, Denzil finds himself entangled with the MacAllister family, a lovable lot despite their flaws, and entranced by modern conveniences.  This is a familiar but captivating premise on which to base a children's fantasy novel and one which encourages young readers to think about history, time and place. How would it feel to go back or forward over seven centuries and witness life first-hand?

The first Denzil story, The Wednesday Wizard, was published in 1991 (way before Harry Potter was created), and the final novel, The Silver Dragon, in 2007.   We have the entire boxed set which includes Denzil’s Dilemma and The Great Bear Burglary.   It's been loads of fun to read aloud and the stories have had plenty of magical twists and turns to sustain our interest.   This little series has become one of our firm favourites.

Recommended for 8-10 age bracket.  Both boys and girls will enjoy the series.  Girls will identify with the headstrong protagonist, young Sam(antha) MacAllister, and boys, of course, will become Denzil in their mind's eye.  Mrs MacAllister and I also shared some common traits (a mother's exasperation with circumstances beyond her control mainly, and wry humour), so I found myself travelling in her shoes.

Wingardium Leviosa

"Why were you lurking under our window?"
"Yes -- yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our windows, boy?"
"Listening to the news," said Harry in a resigned voice.
His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage.
"Listening to the news! Again?"
"Well, it changes every day, you see," said Harry.

Howler (Mrs. Weasley)RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR? I AM ABSOUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER "TOE" OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME! And Ginny, dear, congratulations on making it into Gryffindor. Your Father and I are so proud.

Allow me to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But I don't talk about that; I didn't get rid of the Banden Banshee by smiling at him.

***

Last month we made the pilgrimage to Sydney to see the Harry Potter exhibition at The Powerhouse Museum.  Braved the crowds, the gift shop and the three hour journey on the Hogwarts Express A.K.A the City Rail South Coast Line from Kiama to Central Station. (That in itself is another story!)

We hot-footed it over to Darling Harbour from Central Station and joined the queue for our timed and pre-booked admission. This timed ticketing arrangement seems to be the latest thing for managing crowds to popular/blockbuster exhibitions. But it does rather reduce gallery going to a precision factory line. Doesn't allow for spontaneous visits. 

Fortunately, once you make it through the first two rooms of the HP show which involve audience participation with the sorting hat and a bit of theatre with a partial remake of the Hogwarts Express, the crowds thin, and you can stay as long as you like. Which we did, backtracking and revelling in the clever displays and movie artefacts. 

We had a second go at pulling Mandrakes out of pots, sauntering through Hagrid’s hut, eyeing Buckbeak the Hippogriff and the giant Acromantula spider.  I loved the exquisite costumes and truly gorgeous carved wands.

You have to be a true believer to appreciate the value of the experience.  This one is a commercial juggernaut. I'm almost a convert.

Harry Potter: The Exhibition. The Powerhouse Museum : science + design, Sydney, January 2012. 

Cinderella

We feasted on ballet yesterday.  It all began with a magical matinee performance of Cinderella by the West Australian Ballet Company.  It was my littlest ballerina's first-ever viewing of a professional ballet and she thought it was terrific despite the fact that interpreting the mime was a bit challenging at times.  "Are they going to speak?", she asked.

Japanese dancer Anna Ishii played the lead. But the two comic step-sisters really stole the show. There was no misinterpreting their expressions, gestures and characterisation.  A very clever, modern depiction of these traditional roles. The 1920's inspired costumes were also refreshingly different.

Here's what the company has to say about the production:

Choreographer Jayne Smeulders spins a tale of magic and delight in her first full-length choreography for the Company, whilst Allan Lees, designer of the spectacular 2010 production of Don Quixote, has created sumptuous new costumes and a beautifully restored and re-imagined set for this family ballet classic performed to Sergei Prokofiev’s evocative score.

Later that night, our budding Dame Margot participated in the National Capital Ballet School's end of year show which had the theme "Romanticism".  It was a thrilling experience for her and a credit to the teachers and management.  We were completely blown away by the talented young people, the magnificent costumes and clever sets.  Our little preparatory dance class performed a piece based on a Madeline-inspired group of children visiting an art gallery on a school excursion.  Cuteness abounded. The audience sighed. We applauded loudly.  Bravo.  Encore!

Livin' and Lovin'

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ~ Mark Twain

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
~  J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

“How many slams in an old screen door? Depends how loud you shut it. How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it. How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live 'em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give 'em.”
~ Shel Silverstein

***

Home again with a sick child.  I'll be so glad when this year is over.  I'm hoping all the illnesses will be over and done with so we can start afresh in 2012.  We even had our first experience with the Emergency Department this weekend as a result of a child with a croupy cough and laboured breathing. It was not a reassuring experience. 

Seven hours later, without having seen a doctor, the Strong Silent One, in consultation with nurse, decided to bail out at 4.30 am and come home.  There were still people ahead of us apparently.  Just keep her calm, they said. No magic elixir. Indeed, she is much better now after a home-nursing regime of rest, fluids and paracetamol.  On the night in question, I stayed up restlessly reading The Briny Cafe (still on my Susan Duncan binge), sipping hot milk and ironing like a woman possessed.  Charly and Ro-Ro displayed such loving care and concern for their little sister, that it made me wilt.  There were anxious questions and resolves to maintain a vigil until Daddy phoned in from the hospital.  She was equally desperate to see them when she woke.

Not having brothers or sisters of my own, this is the closest I've come to experiencing the intimate ties that bind siblings.  My three demonstrated this weekend how dearly and deeply they love each other.  I also noticed quite starkly, for the first time, how naturally they complement each other in temper and talent.  When one is not there, it's like a vital cog is missing.  It's been a sentimental (and tiring) ride these past few days.

Photo by me.  Gnome painting at Floriade, October 2011.

Baseball has the great advantage over cricket of being sooner ended.

~ George Bernard Shaw

***

Ain't that the truth.  Now that Wednesday soccer practice has been replaced by cricket practice and Sunday mornings will henceforth be dedicated to the sport.  Not to mention the televised version which will no doubt become our summer wallpaper music. The drone of the commentators. Strangely comforting nonetheless.  Nostalgic. Ro-Ro has decided to take his plastic cricket bat to school for lunchtime matches.  It sticks out of his backpack with pride.  Meantime I have grass stains to wash from the knees of white trousers but that is the extent of my commitment. 

Photo: By me.  Cricket practice at the local nets.

The Footballer's Affirmation

The meditation affirmation of Brett Kirk, Captain of the Sydney Swans AFL team (Captain Kirk).

"As a human being I’m honest, I’m passionate, I’m courageous, I’m disciplined, I have a concentrated mind, I’m compassionate, I’m aware, I’m a good listener, I’m patient, I’m tolerant, I’m fun, I’m adventurous, I’m loving and I’m affectionate, I’m kind, I’m responsible, I am love. I don’t get caught up in my thoughts, I don’t give control to my ego, I don’t dwell on the past, I don’t worry about the future, because the only moment we have is this moment right now."

I caught this thanks to Judith Lucy's Spiritual Journey program on the ABC (a comedic Aussie version of Eat, Pray, Love.  Sort of.)    I only saw a snippet of one episode but what a compelling one it was.  A highly evolved footy player!  Too good to be true.  In addition to this startling revelation which almost, but not quite, converted me to the sport, however, it was also a timely reminder of the need for some still, quiet moments in the day.  Because once the children get in the car, the noise and busy-ness begins and there's no let-up until bedtime. It takes vast amounts of psychic energy after a day's work to cajole and persuade children to do music practice, eat dinner without too much carry-on and put the dishes in the sink etc, so one needs to build up reserves of patience.  

Photo: Our walk along the base of Red Hill on the Deakin-side looking south-west.  By me. Walking it off is another recommended form of therapy.



Comfort viewing

The Starlings

~ Lyrics by The Elbow

How dare the Premier ignore my invitations?

He'll have to go

So, too, the bunch he luncheons with

It's second on my list of things to do

At the top is stopping by

Your place of work and acting like

I haven't dreamed of you and I

And marriage in an orange grove

You are the only thing in any room you're ever in

I'm stubborn, selfish and too old

I sat you down and told you how

the truest love that's ever found

Is for oneself

You pulled apart my theory

With a weary and disinterested sigh

So yes I guess I'm asking you

To back a horse that's good for glue

And nothing else

But find a man that's truer than,

Find a man that needs you more than I

Sit with me a while

And let me listen to you talk about

your dreams and your obsessions

I'll be quiet and confessional

The violets explode inside me

when I meet your eyes

Then I'm spinning and I'm diving

Like a cloud of starlings

Darling is this love?

***

One child home sick today and it's bucketing down.  So it looks like it time to catch up on domestic administration and the fun sport of laundry wrestling... and the idle comfort on another Elizabeth Gaskell serialised drama. 

I must confess that I have acquired a serious addiction to tv and film adaptations of Georgian and Victorian novels due to an uncommonly bad season of influenza in the family (and I suspect a dose of whooping cough for me) which has resulted in much Time Off Work.  It all started with Jane Austen.  But my most recent and astounding discovery has been the BBC version of Mrs Gaskell's North and South starring the impeccably cast Richard Armitage as Mr Thornton.   

Where have I been all these years?  

I commend to you the closing scene with the kiss between Thornton and Miss Hale on the railway station.  You can hunt down the entire series, and others of this genre galore, on YouTube. Which was another revelation.

John Thornton: Where are you going?

Margaret Hale: To London. I've been to Milton.
John Thornton: You'll not guess where I've been.
[Thornton pulls a rose from Helstone out of his pocket]
Margaret Hale: You've been to Helstone! I thought those had all gone!
John Thornton: I found it in the hedge row. You have to look hard. Why were you in Milton?
Margaret Hale: On business. Well, that is, I have a business proposition. Oh dear, I need Henry to help me explain.
John Thornton: You don't need Henry to explain.
Margaret Hale: I have to get this right. It's a business proposition. I have some £15,000. It is lying in the bank at present, earning very little interest. Now, my financial advisors tell me that if you were to take this money and use it to run Marlborough Mills, you could give me a much better rate of interest. So you see, it is only a business matter, you'd not be obliged to me in any way. It is you who would be doing...
[Thornton reaches down and grabs Margaret's hand]
Margaret Hale: ...me the service.
[Margaret grabs Thornton's hand and kisses it]
Margaret Hale: [Thornton touches the side of her face and leans in and kisses her]
[Margaret walks back to Henry, and he gives her suitcase to her]
Margaret Hale: Henry, I...
Henry Lennox: Goodbye, Margaret.
[Margaret walks back to Thornton]
John Thornton: You're coming home with me.

Photo: Jerrabombera Wetlands, Canberra Autumn 2011.

   

Business as usual

PLANS

"'Have you invented a plan for it?' Alice inquired. 'Not yet,' said the knight." Through the Looking-glass. Busy down the coal mine and a bit exhausted at the moment.  Hardly had time to check what has been happening in this virtual space.   We took a bush walk recently on the Deakin side of Red Hill.   Met up with some pooches, passed a reservoir, took in stupendous views of the surrounding hills and stared back at some lazy wallabies.  Charly is obsessed with making pom-poms and is asking for advice on knitting scarves.  Eek!  Little one is gearing up for her 7th birthday party this weekend.  Bigger eek!! Ro-Ro is angling for a Nerf gun and continues to plough through Biggles and Lemony Snicket -- all derring-do and intrigue -- as light bedtime reading.   I wonder what he dreams?  No particular plans are being hatched.  School holidays are looming in a month and we have a few friends visiting from afar.   The old -- well actually not that old -- Electrolux washing machine burst a valve and the brand spanking new Miele is humming like a luxury BMW engine in a glassy showroom.  There are no virtues attached to hand washing and patronising laundromats.  I took the Choice consumer survey at its word and went straight for the top scoring brand based on dirt removal,  rinse performance, water efficiency, spin efficiency and gentleness.  After a week without a machine, I plan to wallow in fresh-smelling, crisp laundry every night this week and sort the whites and colours with a smile and gleeful skip instead of the usual scowl.  Sounds like a {tragic} plan after all.

Seasons

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Ascribed to King Solomon (King James Version, 1611)

 

 

To every thing there is a season,

and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to get, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

a time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time of war, and a time of peace.

Dress-ups

THE LADY's DRESSING ROOM

(an extract)

~ Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)

FIVE Hours, (and who can do it less in?)

By haughty Celia spent in Dressing;

The Goddess from her Chamber issues,

Array'd in Lace, Brocades and Tissues.

Strephon, who found the Room was void,

And Betty otherwise employ'd;

Stole in, and took a strict Survey,

Of all the Litter as it lay;

Whereof, to make the Matter clear,

An Inventory follows here.

Oscar night 2010. 

Here's to Hollywood dressing rooms and the little princesses who are enthralled by the magical world of moving pictures and who dream of dress-ups every day. 

"I think I was probably eight years old and staring into the bathroom mirror, and this would have been a shampoo bottle." Kate Winslet, 2009. 

Slow sew

From the Tao Te Ching:

It is not wise to dash about.

Shortening the breath causes much stress.

Use too much energy, and

You will soon be exhausted.

That is not the Natural Way.

Whatever works against this Way

Will not last long.

***

Back to work today after one of those weekends where there was plenty of scheduled activities and lots of pottering. Nothing much practical was accomplished.  Ironing basket still overflowing and we live in a general state of disorganisation.   A few Guide badges are yet to be sewn on the bag but the main sash is finished.  That's something!

One of the highlights was checking out the Handmade Market at its new location in the Canberra Convention Centre.  Little Wanna and I circled the stalls looking repeatedly at the fabric elephant and giraffe toys.  Turns out she wants to make one.  So we spent a good portion of yesterday learning to do running stitch and chain stitch on a calico sampler.  So out of my comfort zone.  We have a children's craft book called Made by Me which provided invaluable advice in the absence of a great Aunt or Grandma who might otherwise have have done so.  Next thing I'll be getting the sewing machine serviced.  Possibly.  Making no rash decisions.  Best not to rush about in a fit of enthusiasm and then have it fizzle.   I'm good at that.

   

Photo: Granite Island, Victor Harbour, South Australia

Chlorine: the breakfast of champions!

Oh yes, we were wary.  Well, I was.

but the diver showed no fear whatsoever ...

off the spring board (after the big boofy boys got out of the way)

plummetting into water over five metres deep

then ramping it up to the diving tower off a three metre diving platform

ah-hooooyyy

I don't think I could have ever done this at ten years of age.

Diving - the new board game.

Allegro

"Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's looking." Unknown

This is going to be such fun! A sweet and beautiful young dance teacher.  A large room with mirrors and barres.   Real piano accompaniment (just makes my knees go weak) and an inspiring mix of disciplined and playful steps.   Oh, and a little girl who loves to dance.   Happy, happy days.  Sure beats cricket.

The Economics of Pandas

Po: “Legend tells of a legendary warrior whose kung fu skills were the stuff of legend.

Panda: [eating] “Don't tell monkey.

Tai Lung: You can't defeat me! You... you're just a big... fat... panda!

[He throws a weak punch, Po catches his hand by the finger]

Po: I'm not a big fat panda. I'm THE big fat panda.

  [after completing his training]

Shifu: You have done well, Panda.

Po: Done well? Done well? Ha, I've done awesome!

[Elbows Shifu]

Shifu: The sign of a true hero is humility. But, yes, you have done...

[elbows Po, causing him to stagger]

Shifu: ... awesome.

[They laugh]

Photos: Resident celebrities, Wang Wang and Funi, at Adelaide Zoo. 

A massive enclosure which you enter with great fanfare (and orderly, ticketed queuing) through bamboo stands and reproduction Chinese pillars and arches.  They're big guys - not really as cuddle-able as the soft toy equivalent. 

China has supplied giant pandas - on loan - to nine countries in the last 50 years - giving them a huge tourism boost.  The practice - dubbed "panda diplomacy" - has seen visitor numbers soar at the zoos where the rare animals are sent.  Apparently when Adelaide Zoo gained the pandas, visitor numbers went up 70 per cent.  They are an obvious advertising motif all around the city. 

However, they come at a significant cost to the public purse.  The South Australian Government invested $18.9 million in the new entrance and fence, including a conference centre, but the zoo still had to find $8 million for the panda exhibit from sponsors, donors and a bank loan (which will take a least a decade to pay off). The Federal Government is also paying $1 million each year to the Chinese Government for the international breeding program that aims to save the critically endangered species.  The zoo-nomics of pandas.  Complex.

In an old house in Forrest

In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. In two straight lines they broke their bread and brushed their teeth and went to bed.

They smiled at the good and frowned at the bad and sometimes they were very sad. They left the house at half past nine in two straight lines in rain or shine — the smallest one was Madeline.

In another old house that stood next door, lived Pepito, the son of the Spanish Ambassador. An Ambassador doesn't have to pay rent, But he has to move to wherever he's sent.

One day the Spanish Ambassador, moved into the house next door. "Look, my darlings, what bliss, what joy! His Excellency has a boy."

 

"And that's all there is -- there isn't any more."

Source: Ludwig Bemelmans (1898 – 1962), German American author, an internationally known gourmet and also a writer and illustrator of children's books. He is most noted today for the series of Madeline books.  Bemelmans published six Madeline stories in his lifetime, and a seventh was discovered and published posthumously.  They are:

1. Madeline, 1939: Madeline gets her appendix out.

2. Madeline's Rescue, 1953: Madeline gets rescued by a dog (later on named Genevieve). Winner of the Caldecott Medal for 1954.

3. Madeline and the Bad Hat, 1956: The "bad hat" Pepito, is the Spanish ambassador's son.

4. Madeline and the Gypsies, 1959: Madeline and Pepito have an adventure at a gypsy circus.

5. Madeline in London, 1961: Pepito moves to London, and Madeline and the girls go to visit him.

6. Madeline's Christmas, 1985: Everyone in the house has a cold, except Madeline. (First published in McCall's in 1956).

7. Madeline in America and Other Holiday Tales, 1999: Madeline inherits a fortune from her rich American great-grandfather. The book also reveals Madeline's surname, which is Fogg, as in Madeline Fogg.

Photos by me.  The suburb of Forrest in the the embassy belt of Canberra, Australia's national capital.

The Royal Game of Goose

 

'It is perfectly true, as philosophers say, that life must be understood backwards. But they forget the other proposition, that it must be lived forwards.' (Kierkegaard, Journals)

It was games night last night.  After a round of Pictionary we moved to reacquaint ourselves with The Royal Game of Goose.  The game board comprises 63 coded boxes arranged in a spiral. It is a race between players with rewards going to those who land on a goose and penalties for those occupying the other pictures. Stakes are won or lost until the player who first reaches the end wins everything.
 
Apparently, the first mention of the game comes from Francesco dei Medici, Grand Duke of Florence in Italy in the 1500s. He sent a copy to King Philip II of Spain where it caused great excitement at the court, and the adult gambling game spread rapidly to other parts of Europe.  It reached England by 1597, when John Wolfe entered "the newe and most pleasant game of the Goose" in the Stationers' Register.  According to the letters of Horace Walpole, it was played by Duchess of Norfolk in 1758. 
 

We picked ours up at a garage sale.

DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S BEDCHAMBER

~ Oliver Goldsmith, Anglo-Irish writer, poet and physician (1728-74)

The Red Lion flaring o'er the way,

Invites each passing stranger that can pay;

Where Calvert's butt, and Parsons' black champagne,

Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane.

There in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,

The Muse found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug;

A window, patch'd with paper, lent a ray,

That dimly show'd the state in which he lay.

The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread;

The humid wall with paltry pictures spread.

:

The royal game of goose was there in view,

And the twelve rules the royal martyr drew;

The seasons, fram'd with listing, found a place,

And brave prince William show'd his lamp-black face:

The morn was cold, he views with keen desire

The rusty grate unconscious of a fire;

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd,

And five crack'd teacups dress'd the chimney board;

A nightcap deck'd his brows instead of bay,

A cap by night--a stocking all the day!