"Now that lilacs are in bloom..."

Perhaps the most famous poem about lilacs is Walt Whitman's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd. It was written as an elegy for Abraham Lincoln, right after he was assassinated in 1865. Once upon a time, every schoolchild read it, or (heaven forbid) had to memorize all sixteen stanzas.

An old and beloved shrub on farms, ranches and in city gardens, lilacs are mentioned in many works of literature.

But my favorite "lilac lines" are from a T.S. Eliot poem called The Portrait of a Lady. This poem has a story of sorts. A young man is visiting an upper class English lady of a certain age, with whom he's had a relationship. He tells her he's leaving to take an extended trip abroad. She listens and puts on a brave face, but she has a few sharp words about "youth."
Here's the lilac stanza:

Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in her fingers while she talks.

'Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you who hold it in your hands';
(Slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
'You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations it cannot see.'

I smile, of course, And go on drinking tea.

from,
Portrait of a Lady
T.S. Eliot

New window blinds

Hard work and angst goes into picking out new blinds. First the sales lady comes to call. She measures everything and compliments you on your "period" house (that means old.) Then she makes a strong case for her most expensive product (surprise!) solid wood shutters. Hum-mm...in our golden years, I hope we're living where the palm trees sway. And I'm not sure I'll even be on earth long enough to get my enjoyment out that investment.

So, you take it from there and start down the material list: wood, wood veneer, something called faux wood, and something called composite. The sales lady does not believe in cheap aluminum blinds. Oh yes, then you need to pick from dozens of colors. By this time your head is spinning, and the sales lady hasn't even taken out her calculator. By the time she leaves, you've looked at so many different things you can't remember what you ordered. You just hope for the best.

We've been watching the television series Madmen, so I must have been influenced by the old-fashioned wide Venetian blinds on those perfect 1960's sets. I finally went with smooth two inch horizontals in a cream color that matches the trim. Simple and nice!

Here's a view of blogger central with the new blinds. And when the afternoon sun blazes in, no more fumbling with fusty, dusty tab top drapes.

Happy Birthday, April

Happy birthday to my dear niece, April. I hope you have a wonderful day, and give a big kiss to Hayden from his Aunt Suzy.

OOOXXX

April rain

The curled hosta leaves are beautiful when they first emerge, fresh and clean in the spring. Hostas are ornamental plants that die to the ground in the winter, then come back like a miracle. Most have flowers, although nothing to write home about; the attraction is the foliage. They look like something the slugs would enjoy chomping up, but I don't have that problem here.

It's raining this morning, and I'm looking out on a green jungle. The apple tree is blooming, and the roses have buds. The robin has been chirping since 4:15. A few days of warm sun, and the garden will go wild.
April Rain Song
by Langston Hughes

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon
your head with silver
liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a
lullaby
The rain makes still pools
on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little
sleep song on our roof at
night
And I love the rain.

A week of whale news

We don't see this often, so it was big news when a gray whale washed up on a private beach near West Seattle. I didn't go down to see him-- this picture is from the local blog. After much toil and trouble, he was finally towed away at high tide for an autopsy. I heard on the news they found a pair of sweatpants, 20 plastic plastic bags, a golf ball and other "miscellaneous things" in the poor creature's belly, but cause of death was still inconclusive.

Gray whales migrate through Puget Sound each spring, and some individuals are even recognized by name. Most are close to starvation when they get here, having spent 4 or 5 months in southern waters with nothing to eat. Passing through Puget Sound, they have to contend with heavy shipping and industrial waters. Not to mention, pants and bags.

Another unfortunate gray whale was in the news last week after being attacked by a pod of transient British Columbia orcas (killer whales) off Whidbey Island. It was witnessed and filmed by a boatload of shocked whale-watchers. This particular whale is a favorite known as "Patch," and his comings and goings in Puget Sound have been followed since 1991. The British Columbia orcas have a taste for mammals, and prey on the gray calves as they cruise north with their mothers, although attacks on adults are rare. Our Puget Sound resident orcas prefer to eat Chinook salmon, not mammals.

But as we know from other grisly news, killer whales are intelligent and unpredictable animals, and sometimes do bad things "just for fun." The B.C. transient orcas rammed poor "Patch" several times, and he rolled on his back in front of the tour boat to protect himself. It is unknown how badly he was hurt, but he was spotted later resting in shallow water, and seemed to be OK.

Beethoven and puppets

Yesterday afternoon at the Symphony, we heard Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 4 played by Horacio Gutierrez, followed by Stravinsky's Petrouchka ballet score in the second half.

In December 1808, Beethoven played the newly composed No. 4 and conduced an entire concert that included premiers of his Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, the Choral Fantasia, Op. 80 for solo piano and several other works. The Vienna hall was freezing, the orchestral was unrehearsed, the audience was baffled, and Beethoven was probably in a bad mood. The entire concert was described as a "famous disaster," and the 4th Piano Concerto wasn't played again in Beethoven's lifetime. We're talking about shivering through many hours of music. It's hard to imagine it, sitting in a comfortable concert hall on a warm spring afternoon in Seattle.
Here's John at intermission, getting a bit of fresh air on the outdoor deck at Benaroya Hall. We enjoyed seeing our seat pals Betsy and Paul, and getting caught up on family news.
In the second half, we heard Stravinsky's Petrouchka ballet. This is the story of three puppets who come to life and then act out a sad, human story. Listening to ballet scores can drag at the symphony, but this score was exciting even without the beautiful dancers to act out the drama. It was easy to imagine the fantasy love triangle of Petrouchka, the Ballerina and the Moor.

It was a nice afternoon of music, then we went home and ate turkey enchiladas for dinner. And another weekend bites the dust...