When I think of ham, whether it's Green Eggs and Ham, or just any old ham, I think of how my mother paid for my eye surgeries with Christmas hams. And by letting the doctor use my eyes for his research. I was, she said, a good specimen.
Ouch, This is intense. Reverberative. Or is the word reverberatory? (The latter, I learn, is a specifically metallurgical term, employed in engineering, short for a kind of furnace, or possible satanic mill.)
(Do they still say "resonant" in writing school?)
Anyway... one of those pinging depth charges. But ham-shaped. And green.
Evokes a profound subjective ethical dilemma.
I'd hate to think a pig (or for that matter a cow) paid for my eyes.
My grandfather (my mom's father) owned a small jewelry store in a small town in Iowa. During the Depression of the 1930's, people weren't buying much jewelry, but they wanted to make sure their watches were running, and he was able to make an adequate living fixing watches.
On a few occasions, people paid him in goods (usually food, grown on their farms or in their home gardens) rather than cash. Once a woman gave him a sack of potatoes as payment. Another time a man paid him with a chicken. (The farmer had slaughtered the chicken, though he may not have plucked or "cleaned" it.)
That kind of thing was common in those years.
I always enjoy the complete unexpected paths I'll find myself on when I'm cruising the blogs. "Satanic mill." Such delicious resonance of William Blake.
I don't know if people still say "resonant" in writing school, but I definitely say "resonant" in my writing school. :)
Paying for eye surgeries with Christmas hams. That's remarkable.
Doreen Cote
-
Doreen L. Cote
https://www.edwardsmemorialfuneralhome.com/obituary/Doreen-Cote
Blackstone, Massachusetts
Aug 20, 1955 – Aug 20, 2025
I met Doreen walki...
Secret Ingredient
-
Every writer needs a little inspiration once in a while. For today’s
prompt, imagine a secret ingredient that makes people relive memories.
The post Secr...
The Intrinsic Creativity of Nature
-
… Understanding the properties of H2 and O2 does not allow us to predict
the properties of H2O … This is from Signs of Life: How Complexity Pervades
Biolog...
-
I know all of northern New England has suffered from drought this summer,
but the Maine coast has been particularly stricken. Any rain in the
interior ne...
Global Sleaze Prize
-
He dropped $300 million worth of bombs on Iran. He ordered the incineration
of $500 million worth of food meant to feed starving children in other
nations....
August 30th: The Poetry Airshow
-
*From Mike Credico and our friends at the Ohio Center for the Book at
Cleveland Public Library:*
I wanted to let you know that we'll be hosting an open m...
Stay away from the pool
-
My mother & I were visiting a friend of hers who was living in an apartment
complex that I regarded at the time as positively palatial, what for the
commun...
In Memory of Ed Ochester, Poet & Editor, RIP
-
We have asked Ed Ochester (above) to edit our Sunday poetry pages for the
next few months. Here is one of Ed's poems: March of the Penguins The
editor of N...
“In spite of all the learned have said ...”
-
Philip Freneau
Philip Freneau (1752-1852) was a journalist and poet in the early years our
country was forming. And, oh, by the way, I once wrote an under...
Balance is important in design
-
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo
ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis Theme natoque penatibus et
magnis dis ...
Proof of Life
-
Um, hello? Is this thing on?
I am writing from the Central Time Zone, as we have officially moved to
Oxford, Mississippi for the academic year! And I have ...
Lana K. W. Austin
-
Lana K. W. Austin’s poems, short stories, and reviews have recently been
featured in *Mid-AmericanReview, Sou’wester, Columbia Journal, Zone 3,
Appalachia...
The translucent veil of life
-
Haha, so the truth comes out. Having 2 children is A LOT more work than 1!
I haven't been able to get out of the rocking chair more than a few
moment...
On the move
-
*Gal about town, photo by Bob Perkoski*
Dear readership,
Your humble hostess has been doing a whole lot of what is depicted in
today's photo: walking aro...
Strawberry Month
-
The strawberry sweets at Lagusta's Luscious this month are insane! I
missed out last year and decided that this year I would take full
advantage.
I luck...
AWP in Minneapolis, and recommended reading
-
Again I've been away from this blog longer than I'd intended. Much busy
with writing, and reading, and life in general.
I'll be attending the annual AWP co...
Remixing the World's Problems Results
-
The one thing about judging poetry is that it often takes me much longer
than I expect. For everyone who has waited so patiently for me to get these
result...
In a Landscape - The Playlist
-
John Cage, “In a Landscape”
Bob Dylan, “My Back Pages”
Neil Young, “Ambulance Blues”
The Twilight Zone Theme
Babylon 5 Theme
Simon & Garfunkel, “Richard Co...
2 comments:
Ouch, This is intense. Reverberative. Or is the word reverberatory? (The latter, I learn, is a specifically metallurgical term, employed in engineering, short for a kind of furnace, or possible satanic mill.)
(Do they still say "resonant" in writing school?)
Anyway... one of those pinging depth charges. But ham-shaped. And green.
Evokes a profound subjective ethical dilemma.
I'd hate to think a pig (or for that matter a cow) paid for my eyes.
Live and Let Live: Cows and Pigs.
(But no, my eyes wouldn't be worth their weight in tadpoles.)
My grandfather (my mom's father) owned a small jewelry store in a small town in Iowa. During the Depression of the 1930's, people weren't buying much jewelry, but they wanted to make sure their watches were running, and he was able to make an adequate living fixing watches.
On a few occasions, people paid him in goods (usually food, grown on their farms or in their home gardens) rather than cash. Once a woman gave him a sack of potatoes as payment. Another time a man paid him with a chicken. (The farmer had slaughtered the chicken, though he may not have plucked or "cleaned" it.)
That kind of thing was common in those years.
I always enjoy the complete unexpected paths I'll find myself on when I'm cruising the blogs. "Satanic mill." Such delicious resonance of William Blake.
I don't know if people still say "resonant" in writing school, but I definitely say "resonant" in my writing school. :)
Paying for eye surgeries with Christmas hams. That's remarkable.
Post a Comment