Are we all familiar with Magnetic Poetry? Words on magnets, moved randomly to create poems of more or less poetic value? I have some at work, and sometimes it saddens me to dismantle the poems, although they are by nature transient. But hey, I can capture them in amber here!
the bloom on the petal vanishes without surrendering
every day the dream is more like a garden growing
I never said I was good at it!
Did you know, by the way, that Magnetic Poetry was invented by a guy with allergies? He had slips of paper cut out to rearrange them, and messed it up every time he sneezed, so he glued them to magnets, and a star was born. I love this story.
I'm actually gardening for real this year; we have a community garden here at the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, and I'm sharing a plot with someone. I planted English cucumbers, green peppers, and catnip, and am pleased with the success. Not bad for a rookie effort, in fact. I've had some funny-shaped cukes, but they taste good, and now the pepper crop is booming. Had some with lunch, in fact. And Pan loves the catnip. Harold just looks at it, then at me, with a nearly-visible thought balloon over his head saying "What?" He likes the dried stuff, but apparently fresh doesn't rock his boat. We're all different, aren't we?
I have my second sock-knitting class tonight, and if I don't post about it afterward (and chances are that I won't), it won't happen tomorrow either: I'm in Boston all day for our annual Sales Meeting. Maybe Saturday.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
I mostly knit, sometimes crochet or cross-stitch. I read, a lot. I love cats. I love hockey, especially my no-longer-local team, the Boston Bruins. Want more? Read on.
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