Fabiola again
I wrote earlier about identifying a picture that was a familiar part of the environment when I was a kid. The collection of images of Saint Fabiola has been written about again recently, in the London Review of Books.
Rantor, founding member of the International League of Luddites, headquartered in South Austin, Texas 78704, celebrates National Indignation Week every day of the year.
I wrote earlier about identifying a picture that was a familiar part of the environment when I was a kid. The collection of images of Saint Fabiola has been written about again recently, in the London Review of Books.
Astonishingly, we still have bachelor buttons (cornflowers). Black-eyed Susans and nasturtiums are beginning to fade. Sweet peas are done. Morning glories like where they are and produce a flower or two of each of several varieties most days. Tomatoes became thick-skinned and are no longer blossoming or setting fruit, but the crop was large, of all varieties. Where they were watered, roses of Sharon are in profuse bloom; where they weren't, it appears that they may not survive. Where they haven't been watered and also spend hours in direct sun, Turk's cap is not flourishing. It's time to move the geraniums to shadier places. Pride of Barbados is now in full bloom, and some grown from seed thrown off by the only plant we ever bought are producing flowers for the first time. This morning we saw our first ruellia flower of the season. We're doing very well ourselves. Attendance at el cinco de mayo and Juneteenth served to acclimate us this year for our life without air-conditioning and so far the temperature inside the house has not gone above 80 degrees (apart from close to the stove when we're cooking).
At last there are flowers on the pride of Barbados plants and on the plumbago. Everyone else has had them for ages, it seems. But we have a flower that I haven't seen in other yards: celery! This is from the plant that sprang up in a pot that once contained basil from the South Congress farmers' market. This is year two for the celery and the first celery blossom that I've ever seen. The flowers are fairly inconspicuous, but the delicate white blooms are quite pretty.
We won't overlook the free movie showings at Regal Arbor again (the free children's shows are shown on the right of the page). Courtesy of some time to burn, we thoroughly enjoyed the children's show of City of Ember. The children were a very good audience, and the movie attracted a bigger audience than any movie of any kind that we've seen lately. This movie is not for children only; it's thoroughly enjoyable by adults. We couldn't understand why it was assigned a PG rating. Now, we want to find the book or books on which this movie was based. The acting is excellent and the production design is a real treat. This is a movie that insults no one's intelligence. And, thanks to the Austin Public Library, we happened upon Lorenzo de Zavala's account of his travels in the United States of the early 1830s as translated by retired TWU professor Wallace Woolsey and published by Austin's own Shoal Creek Publishers in 1980. It's my guess that this is a rare book now. It has apparently been reissued by Arte Publico. Parts of it make for fine reading aloud. Zavala was interested in everything and discusses at length the banks of the time and how they operated. This book belongs right up there with the accounts of Dickens (American Notes for General Circulation) and Mrs. Trollope (Domestic Manners of the Americans). Zavala visits some of the same locations (e.g., the Panopticon, Niagara). I love his description of West Point and its curriculum.
Barbara Pym: Jane and Prudence
That must have been a June when I read lots of mysteries (I seldom recorded mysteries).
John Ardagh: A Tale of Five Cities: Life in Europe Today
Robert Tracy: Trollope's Later Novels
Anthony Powell: A Buyer's Market
Jane Austen: Sense and Sensibility
Madame D'Arblay: Diary and Letters of, vol II (6/1781-8/1786)
Observed this morning are four kinds of morning glories; kazillion kinds of nasturtiums, in pots and not, trailing or climing and not; the last four poppies; the last, probably, of the sweet peas, of at least a half-dozen types; the last of the firewheels; the last of the violas (Johnny jump-ups); resurgence of lantanas (the birds are busy with the seeds and the flesh of the fruits); bachelor buttons (cornflowers); cosmos of two kinds (pink varieties and the orange and yellow ones); milkweeds of two kinds; zonal geraniums (pelargoniums); fennel; chiles; wild sunflowers; every type of rose of Sharon; two types of oleander; and very handsome black-eyed Susans.
Joseph Conrad: Nostromo
These were both re-reads: