#amreading: Kelly Creighton

My mother wants a girl, I said, but I know it’s a boy, all the trouble he’s given me.

— “Bank Holiday Hurricane,” the title story of Kelly Creighton’s short story collection

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#folklorethursday: Ringing the bell at the Bajnath Temple, Himachal Pradesh

Ring the bell and make a wish!

That, at least, is what self was told.

Himachal Pradesh, India, 2012.

Stay tuned.

Tana French Quote of the Day: BROKEN HARBOUR, p. 25 (Spoiler-Free)

Self is just loving this book! Looks like she found herself a new favorite mystery writer.

The book begins with a heinous crime in one of those Dublin suburbs they call “ghost villages” — These were built fast in the Irish boom, but went bust with unsold homes only a few years later.

The Dublin Murder Squad is on it.

Detective Mick Kennedy to his rookie partner:

But keep in mind, right now we know bugger-all about these people. They kept their house in good nick, at least occasionally, and they got killed. I’m telling you the second one means a lot more than the first. Anyone can hoover. Not everyone gets murdered.

That last bit is going to be self’s favorite quote for a loooong time.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

Fifth From the Annaghmakerrig Book: Anne Haverty

I used to be quite a normal fellow.

— from One Day As a Tiger by Anne Haverty

Transformation 2: Pamela de Brî, Studio # 4

At the Tyrone Guthrie Centre, Annaghmakerrig: Because art is all about TRANSFORMATION:

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First, the Empty Studio, the Blank Walls

And then:

Pam’s Last Day at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre

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Transformation: The Daily Post Photo Challenge, 22 November 2017

This week’s Daily Post Photo Challenge is TRANSFORMATION.

There are many ways self could choose to interpret that challenge. She could show nature and the changing seasons. She could show people in the process of transforming (costumes, aging, and so forth).

For now, she chooses to focus on the transformation of physical space. The first picture is London’s Chinatown in late October. The second is the Blue Room in Paradiso in Cork.

In the first picture, the Chinese lanterns add a whole different aspect to the street.

In the second, it’s the shadows cast by a floor lamp that transform a simple room into a place of mystery.

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Chinatown, London: Last Week of October 2017

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Paradiso, Cork: Early November, 2017

Other interpretations:

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Sentence of the Day: Gerald Weales

  • A play is a kind of — playing.

— Gerard Weales, A Play and Its Parts (Basic Books, 1964)


Self found this book today, while she was rummaging in a cabinet of her cottage at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Annaghmakerrig.

Stay tuned.

Poetry Saturday: “Trenarren, Autumn 1941”

An excerpt from Trenarren, Autumn 1941

by A. L. Rowse

The thunder-green sea
Brings nearer the Island
On which stood the chapel
Of Michael the Archangel.

Smoke from a chimney
In the V-shaped valley,
The voices of children,
A robin on the bough:

Familiar and cheerful
Domestic noises
Speak of contentment
About me now.

But what is to come?
I ask myself, waiting
In this burial-place
Of my ancient people.


from A. L. Rowse’s collection Poems, Chiefly Cornish (London: Faber and Faber), dedicated to Edward Sackville West, “in our common passion for Cornwall”

Stay tuned.

EXPERIMENTAL: The Daily Post Photo Challenge, 15 November 2017

  • This is about “being experimental and choosing a new path.”

— Krista Stevens, The Daily Post

Last week, while wandering around Dublin, self stopped to gawk at the display window of a designer’s studio on Cow’s Lane:

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A Designer’s Shop Window on Cow’s Lane, Dublin: 9 November 2017

Unfortunately, the shop was closed. Self had to content herself with taking pictures.

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Display Window, Cow’s Lane, Dublin: 9 November 2017

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

 

The Red Book: DO NO HARM, p. 72

Dr. Henry Marsh visits the Bessarabian Market, Ukraine:

Igor was later to tell me that the Bessarabian Market was still functioning only because it had become something of a tourist attraction. He suddenly became quite excited and pointed at one of the fish stalls.

“Very rare!” he said, pointing at three long, smoked eels in a glass cabinet. He bought one of them and gave it to me as a present. It smelt rather awful.

“Very unusual!” he said proudly. “They are in Red Book!”

“What’s the Red Book?” I asked.

“Book of animals soon dead. None left. You are lucky to have one,” he said happily.

“But Igor, this could be the last Ukrainian eel!” I said, looking at the long and once beautiful creature, who had been swimming, glittering, in some remote Ukrainian river and was now smoked and dead and wrapped in a Giorgio Armani plastic bag.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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