The rain didn't let up yesterday. I had a lot of time to spend at my desk. I've discovered I can't stay with one task, one project, for a whole eight hours. I begin to feel restless and look for other things to do. After about 90 minutes of researching an article, I felt a deep desire to take out the garbage even though it was pouring rain. And though I knew I had to finish a synopsis, a couple of hours of arranging and rearranging 3X5 note cards had me wishing the bathroom wasn't already clean.
But Boz got a good walk. And John had a nice dinner waiting for him when he got home.
And now it's pouring again. Today, perhaps I can learn to stay at each project a little longer.
How about a poem?
Horses and Men in Rain, by Carl Sandburg (Cornhuskers, 1918)
Let us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray
wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery
boys.
Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot
punches--and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys
slipping along the icy sidewalks.
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy
Grail and men called "knights" riding horses in the rain, in the
cold frozen rain for ladies they loved.
A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on
his hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the
caravanserai a gray blur in a slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and
write poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and
all the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.
Let us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray
wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery
boys.
Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot
punches--and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys
slipping along the icy sidewalks.
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy
Grail and men called "knights" riding horses in the rain, in the
cold frozen rain for ladies they loved.
A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on
his hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the
caravanserai a gray blur in a slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and
write poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and
all the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.
24 comments:
You're welcome to come clean mine.
Thanks, Hiker. You're my pal.
Just to clarify: I'm adding a Carl Sandburg poem to the post, after Hiker's comment.
I run into the same project ADD when I'm working from home. Not even just on rainy days, all the time. Things manage to get done though... eventually.
This is a really lovely photo!
Love Carl Sandburg. Nice poem.
WV: pratest. Let's pratest the rain!
Love that house and love the poem. Glad you had time to share them.
I posted the same poem last year on a similarly dark and stormy day. Seems to suit the Dena's.
At first glance, I thought that house was a chapel of some sort. Very pretty, and peaceful. Home can be a chapel, too, in that way.
Wishing you a Merry Christmas, Petrea, enjoy!
Not only that, Karin, but you're taller. ;-)
I am so pleased that Amy has the same ADD as I do and so bummed that Karin posted that poem.
Thank you, Dina and Joanne.
Earl, Karin can be tall. I'm letting her have tall.
The poem may not have warmed the room, but it warmed my heart. Gracias.
De nada, Roberta.
Lovely photo and wonderful architecture. I hope it stops raining soon. Raining in Paris today. Carla
Love the poem! People must have put up with far more discomfort in the past - never quite dry enough, never quite warm enough, never quite clean enough.
John and Boz must be very happy that you can't work on your piece for 8 hours at a time - they're getting good food, walks, and a clean house. Hope you're all warm and dry and the roads are safe, and don't worry if you're one of the little people, you're still taller than I am.
I'm building an Ark
Boy, just drove up toward Devil's Gate. The rain had let up so I thought I'd take a look around. About 1/8 mile south of the Windsor exit, the deluge hit. Wow! Stayed in the car. Went down to the Rose Bowl. The water in the Arroyo was hauling butt!!!
Greetings, Carla. Paris in the rain sounds romantic. Pasadena in the rain sounds like sirens.
Bellis, I think that's what Sandburg was saying, at least partly. We have it easy.
Will you be taking two bloggers, PA?
I've got to brave it, Mister Earl. I want pictures.
When are you going, P?
WV: ingenes. Well, yeah.
I have recently read the symptoms of internet-oholic, your restlessness perfectly fits in. Mine (in almost same conditions) is for sure.
Poetic photo.
So how's that holiday spirit coming along? =]
I can definitely relate to the ADD (ADHD?), rain or shine. I like the peaceful house too, and the poem. It reminds me how cozy it is indoors.
It sounds like it just stopped raining! But I'm too lazy to get up and look out the window.
Oh this is perfect and a nice seg into my blog tomorrow where YOU and are the my inspiration. Stay dry and warm.
V
Earl, I didn't end up going anywhere. You saw how hard it was pouring.
Irina, I'm afraid that might be it. I'd better look up the symptoms and break some habits before they get worse!
Hi Dirk, check me out tomorrow, I'm doing pretty well.
Susan, I think that's about what time it stopped. Boz got a walk and everything.
Virginia! Now that's what I call a thrill. I love it.
Even though it had rained for days, I was looking forward the HEAVY rain I had heard was coming, but was disappointed when I woke up and it was only drizzling.
Then 2 pm rolled around and...Holy Cow! Lightning and thunder and I got my wish! It only rained 1.5 inches but it all came at once, it seemed. I loved it!
The storm had its great moments, didn't it, J.J.? Being from the Midwest I miss thunder and lightning. We don't get much of it here.
Post a Comment