My last kettle

Most of the country is freezing cold right now, so I shouldn't complain about a few days of rain, gloom and above normal 45 degrees. It does get a person down though. I'm sure the native people used to hole up in their long houses eating dried salmon, getting on each other's nerves.

Good reading weather. I just finished a book called "The Anthologist" by Michaelson Baker. If you like poetry and fiction you would enjoy it, because it's an unusual story about a broke poet who can't bring himself to even write an introduction to an anthology. The book becomes a rambling love story about poetry, and how important it is in our lives. He finally gets past writer's block by asking himself a simple question: What was the best moment in my day?

And then the daily writing follows. Blogging isn't always poetry, but poetry is often blogged.
(Sometimes too often :-)

The best moment in my day came when this new English kettle arrived in the mail. John ordered it over the Internet, and it was worth the long wait.

My Last Kettle

British, no nonsense
And handmade,
Fine for a Queen,
But mine.
Chrome with a pure copper heart.
Surely
The last kettle I will ever own.

I'll put the kettle on
for a nice cup of tea...

Even the shriek is genteel.
Everything about it
Simply, honestly,
Beautiful.