Field of Rocks

Yesterday, self dropped by Lyngso in San Carlos. It’s THE place for everything “natural” for your landscaping needs: pebbles, stones, rocks, flagstones — you name it.

She’s been hearing about Lyngso forever, since son was in primary school at St. Raymond’s in Menlo Park. Every single one of his classmates lived in the area, all of them had beautiful homes, and all of them got their stone from Lyngso.

It just so happened that when self dropped by yesterday, there was an abundance of boulders. She was so happy, it reminded her of the time her friend Helene took her to a field of rocks near Yorkshire (very Wuthering Heights).

She asked an employee about the different-colored rocks, and he told her that a customer had put in an order for 18 boulders, and hadn’t picked them up yet. “So this is a pretty special assortment,” he told self.

Wowowowowowow

Just lookit. Self wanted to use these rocks for Lens-Artists Photo Challenge 115.2 (Inspiration) but she ended up using a different set of pictures. Still, she went bananas and took 20 pictures of rocks yesterday. Here are a few:

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Citizenship and Its Discontents

Anomaly is an international journal of literature and the arts that provides a platform for works of art that challenge conventions of form and format, of voice and genre.

Deadline for the special issue on Citizenship and Its Discontents:

30 September 2020

Guest Editor: Grace Loh Prasad

Email: citizenshipfolio@gmail.com

Twitter: @GraceLP

On the Ground in North Carolina: NPR News Report, 11 Sept 2020

  • “Saying he did more for blacks than any President since Abraham Lincoln is the biggest lie he ever told . . . Mark my words, we’re gonna turn the mother out in North Carolina.” — Rep. Alma Adams, representing the 12th District of North Carolina
  • “People here just love the way he (Trump) is able to speak directly about the issues . . . without anger,” — young man near Raleigh, North Carolina. “He really cares. He’s been here three times in the past few weeks. We haven’t seen Biden in at least six months.”

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

How To Be

Fabrizio’s looks save him over and over again. After the defeat of the French, he stumbles across the canteen woman who, despite having lost her cart and her horse, is still intent on protecting him.

Chapter Four, The Charterhous of Parma:

Canteen Woman (That’s all she ever goes by) to Fabrizio: “Get yourself away from this defeated army; find some way out . . . The first chance you get, buy yourself some civilian clothes. Once you’re eight or ten leagues away and you don’t see any more soldiers, take the mail-coach and rest up for a couple of weeks in some nice town where you can eat beefsteaks . . . As soon as you’ve got a gentleman’s clothes on your back, tear up your travel-permit . . . never say you were in battle, and don’t breathe a word about Bonaparte . . . When you want to go back to Paris, get yourself to Versailles first, then enter Paris from that side, walk right in as if you were out for a stroll. Sew your napoleons into your trousers. And above all, when you have to pay for something, don’t let anyone see more than what you need to pay. The saddest thing of all is that people are going to cheat you and gouge you out of all you have, and what will you do once you have no money, when you don’t even know how to take care of yourself?”

A Big Entrance

He watched Dewy Crowe bring a pump shotgun out of the trunk and start back this way, all business now, his mind made up, his dumb pride taking him to a place it would be hard to back out of.

. . . Raylan in his shirtsleeves, Dewey Crowe taking careful steps now, holding the shotgun out in front of him.

“Mr. Crowe? Listen, you better hold on there while I tell you something.”

It stopped him about fifty feet away, his shoulders hunched.

“I want you to understand,” Raylan said, “I don’t pull my sidearm ‘less I’m gonna shoot to kill. That’s it’s purpose, huh, to kill. So it’s how I use it.”

Fire in the Hole

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Noir-ish

Reading Elmore Leonard’s “Sparks.”

There must be gin.

There must be a rich widow who knows how to roll a joint.

There must be a detective of a certain age (and he must be a Jim or a Joe)

There must be dialogue like this:

“But, basically, Joe, we got together the way people usually do, and fell in love.”

“He was a lot older than you.”

“What you’re asking now, did I marry him for his money. Sure, that had a lot to do with it. But I liked him.”

It is summer, it is summer, it is summer. Summer and noir go together like white on rice.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

 

Riding Through London in a Mercedes: Dan and His Father-in-Law

The Snakes, p. 321 (making great progress, hope to finish by tomorrow): SPOILER-FREE

“Where are we going?” asked Dan.

“Wait and see.”

It was quiet in the car, and Dan didn’t notice the traffic. They drove through Camden Town and past the British Museum, then crossed the river at Waterloo, Elephant and Castle, the Old Kent Road, and gradually, the streets became familiar.

 

Self has done this walk, on foot.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

 

Big Daddy (Griff) Quote of the Day: The Snakes, p. 112

Dad tells his daughter Bea, certified sjw, that he thinks her husband might leave her because he’s: a) mixed race and Bea is white; b) he’s very good-looking, and Bea, unlike her mother, isn’t.

  • “The human need for justice can be exploited so easily, and waves of passion sweep over whole populations — the true belief that they are right — and then they’re liberated to do terrible things. The collective can turn either way.”

After dinner, Bea gets up to wash the dishes but her mother and Alex get to the kitchen ahead of her.

“We’re fine. We don’t need any help,” Bea’s mother says, and closes the kitchen door in Bea’s face.

Priceless, Priceless Quote of the Day, Self Can’t Even

The Snakes, p. 107

Griff (Bea’s Dad): You’re meant to flatter your kids, tell girls they’re beautiful. Whatever. I don’t care. You were never going to stop traffic. Not like your mum. Fighting them off, she was — still is, for all I know.

How come English writers can do this so well? Nothing like English melodrama. And they say the English are cold!

Remember how John Le Carré, not satisfied with his MC, George Smiley, being a spy, also had to make him a cuckold? And readers never complained or wound up thinking: this is taking away from the main story. It’s such a distraction!

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Quote of the Day: The Snakes, p. 87

  • Griff: “I can’t stand rented cars. They’re always completely disgusting, and collecting them is a nightmare.”

Well hello there, Father of Bea.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

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Iain Kelly

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