A Bonney Family Story

Hello, readers! I hope you are having a wonderful week so far. My post today is an offering of the historical variety. Yesterday marked the 47th year since John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, TX. My father had the unusual experience of meeting him the morning of November 22, 1963, so I decided he should have the chance to share his story.

Now, you have to know. Dad is a lawyer and science enthusiast. I have never seem him read a novel--ever. But his straightforward, technical writing has a charm in this account, and reveals a certain something about his personality, so I have left his words verbatim. Enjoy!

ABB - At Your Request:

This is a true tale of the day that JFK was assassinated - November 22, 1963, and what I did that day.

I was a junior at Austin College in Sherman, Texas, and was taking an advanced course in constitutional law. The class was small - only about ten (10) students. Dr. Kenneth Street was the Professor.

Dr. Street learned that President John F. Kennedy and his wife, Jackie, would be in Dallas on November 22, 1963, and would be spending the night of November 21, 1963, at a luxury hotel in Fort Worth, before coming to Dallas around noontime. There was a breakfast meeting in the Hotel Ballroom for several hundred supports of JFK, and Dr. Street arranged a table at the breakfast for our constitutional law class.

The entire class attended, and we had a table ( I remember twelve [12] people at our table), which was one of approximately twenty (20) tables in the ballroom. JFK arrived and walked near our table on his way to the head table. Jackie was not with him.

JFK addressed the gathering of supporters, and my memory is that he spoke of his vision for a better America. I remember distinctly that he joked about Jackie not coming to the breakfast because she could not find her shoes. There had been press about Jackie’s large shoe closet at the White House. I remember how vibrant and alive he appeared, the President of the United States.

The President left around 9:00 a.m., and we drove back to Sherman, which was approximately seventy (70) miles northeast of Fort Worth. I remember that I had an exam that afternoon around 1:00 p.m. in a different class - I think English literature. As I was taking the exam, I noticed an unusual amount of loud yelling and commotion on the campus outside the classroom building, and wondered what was going on out there.

I finished taking the exam around 2:00 p.m., and as I handed in my exam paper to the Professor, she handed me a slip of paper that read: “Please open and read after you have left the exam room.” Curious, I rushed outside and opened the note and read the words: “President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed in Dallas this afternoon at approximately 1:30 p.m. by an unknown assassin.”

I remember thinking “This is not possible. I just saw the man several hours ago, vibrant and full of life.” I rushed to my dorm and found most of the students already gathered around the television in the rec room, glued to the beginning network coverage of the assassination.

The fact that I had just seen the man just hours before he was shot and killed made the whole event very poignant and real to me, and even more horrible than it would have been otherwise.

I am the proud father of Anna Beth, and write this at her request for her blog.

Sam Bonney

Where I Have Been

Oh wow, dear readers. October and November have been two of the busiest months since graduating. Weddings, working, traveling, and a 10 kilometer run have made it a little difficult to concept creative, inventive, and unusual posts. And even now, all I can think of is the excitement that has passed these weeks. But instead of doing a traditional (and dull) journal, please enjoy a few haikus!

Beginning of October

Epicurean.

Lived it up with M & M.

Glee and hamburgers.

Olives, cheese, and bread,

Manhattans we did consume.

Who bought me that beer?

Wedding in Tennessee

Driving in the rain.

Zaxbys made a good last meal,

Thought I'd die in car.

Todd and Sally wed,

D'burg was alight with joy,

bowling and bad bars.

Halloween

Max is from a book.

Bookish costumes don't win first--

When you're crossdressing.

Weekend in Austin

Cheer and a cheeseball

in the shape of a pumpkin

And late night tacos.

Perfect vacation.

Halloween is all the time

For weird Austinites.

10K Military Mud Run

Mud runs are so hard.

Not on legs, but sinuses.

My nose ran real far.

Going to a concert with a cold. (Due to aforementioned Mud Run)

Edward Sharpe concert.

The Palladium Ballroom.

Fell asleep on floor.

Well, dear readers, that pretty much sums up my life. I will return to blogging more regularly, I promise! In the meantime, tell me of your life (in haiku form, of course). A haiku is simply a line of 5 syllables, followed by a line of 7 syllables, followed by a line of 5 syllables. For more information of the nuance of a haiku, visit here. Best haiku gets a cookie!

Good Morning, Vietnam!

cà phê sữa đá, sin muhoi!

Or as they say in English, "Iced coffee with milk, please!"

Today, dear coffee-lovin' readers, I have an offering of the caffeinated variety. Thanks to the French occupation of Vietnam in the late 19th Century, the Vietnamese have developed a method of making coffee that will please coffee aficionados and novices alike. And beyond being delicious, the feeling you get as you sip this wee bonny beverage is akin to a kick clear to the ceiling. Ideal for working in an office with low lighting. Or any kind of lighting, for that matter. A real godsend.

To make this delightfully tasty kick-in-the-pants, you will need the following:

One strainer. Like this one!

To purchase one of these charming little strainers, click here.

Next locate the following:

1 cup boiling hot water

1 spoon

1 large glass filled with ice

3 heaping tablespoons of the strongest coffee you can find

1 coffee mug

Sweetened condensed milk to taste. (I like to use 2 heaping tablespoons)

Ok. Here's what you do with all that.

First, take your mug. Put your sweetened condensed milk in there. Yeah, that's right. It will look like a big, off-white, glob of delicious. Next, take your precious little metal strainer, and set it on top of the mug. Like a little house! So cute! Put your coffee in the strainer. THEN place the musher on top. I call it the musher because it mushes. I have accidentally put the coffee over the musher before, not pretty. THEN add your water, and place a cap over the whole thing.

Next, put plenty of ice in your tall glass. It should look like a coffee house photo op. It's true, see below. (Photo thanks to Wandering Chopsticks, a lovely little blog that samples a wide variety of culinary delights.)

Then, you wait. Yeah, I know. Tough in the morning. But it is the perfect amount of time to do a preliminary circle around the office, check out Sandra's new bangs, and watch a YouTube video. You can do it, I know you can.

Once you have completed those tasks, remove the strainer, stir your coffee with the milk, and pour over ice.

When all is said and done,

heaven.

Cheap, easy, strong, and tasty. The archetype of all coffee. Kam ung, Vietnam!

A Wee Bonny Gift

Today, dear readers, I have a gift for you of the visual variety. My dear friend and photographer Brian Tropiano sent these for a little Bonney viewing. Enjoy these gems from a gem of a friend.

For more about Brian, please see his website and blog!

Because I Promised You Rainbows

At the start of this bonny little blog, I dared to promise rainbows. And while it took several months to locate a brilliant symbolic spectrum, dear readers, I love you so. I found you two! Behold (and look closely).

Double rainbows. And doubly good wishes for a happy Friday! I will leave you with the lyrics from my favorite Irish blessing. (I don't know if I just had too many lucky charms as a child, but rainbows make me think of the Irish.)

The Lord bless you and keep you

The Lord lift his countenance upon you

And give you peace

And give you peace

The Lord make his face to shine upon you

And be gracious unto you,

The Lord be gracious unto you

Amen, amen

(Photo by Preston Mitcham, iPhone 3G. Special thanks to PM for being so handy with the technology)

The Ubiquitous Sandwich

Dear Readers,

I am here today to write about one of my very favorite things. Yeah, that's right. You got it. Sandwiches. Sandwiches, you may know, have a long and illustrious history. Although it has been rumored among food enthusiasts that the hallowed "Duke of Sandwich" created this delightful meal by ordering his roast beast between two pieces of bread, the truth is more interesting; though less alliterative. The first recorded sandwich was actually consumed by a rabbi! For more on this stunning man, please see The History of Sandwiches.

Today, though, I am not here to discuss roast beast. Far surpassing Rabbi Hillel the Elder's wildest dreams, the sandwich is now synonymous with a wide range of delicious flavors -- from tangy to sweet, savory to salty, and all flavors in between. Yes, indeed. From its humble beginnings of roast beef and bread comes a meal that can include curry, bell peppers, vegetables, tofu, feta, parmesan, basil, salmon, and any other flavor under the sun. Everybody has his or her favorite sandwich, (I, for one, love turkey, lettuce, mustard, and cheddar on toasted wheat. Scrumptious.) and some adventurers have devised highly creative variations on a theme. Today, I come with two humble offerings. The Caitlin and The Susan. Behold.

The Caitlin

The Caitlin is a filling treat. Devised in California, this sandwich utilizes the contrast of its two main ingredients: the avocado and a fuji apple. Caitlin, in her Caitlinish ways, deftly juxtaposed the creamy green with tart and crisp. Combined with herb roasted turkey and Swiss cheese, this sandwich carries satisfaction to the tastebuds like no other.

Instructions:

Lightly butter (or spread olive oil) on two pieces of fresh french bread. Toast bread lightly. Slice avocado, apple, and cheese in thin slivers. When toast is ready, layer avocado, cheese, apple, and turkey evenly. Enjoy this gourmet sandwich with a light crisp wine or beer. I'm telling you, this thing is a meal. And fortunately, since it uses all the ingredients sparingly, you can create another swiftly -- and guilt free!

The Susan

All vegetarians, take heed! I have a delicious breakfast sandwich made of ingredients that have never eaten breakfast themselves. The Susan is a creation that utilizes some surprising ingredients. Susan invented this sandwich in Baltimore when she was earning her undergraduate degree in classics. And though I had a skeptical ear at first, thinking, "Oh Susan. You have read too much Cicero and have lost your mind," this combination is truly delicious.

Instructions:

Start with a bagel. Toast said bagel. Once toasted, smear a little cream cheese on the top. Next, add basil leaves. Yes, you read correctly. Fresh basil leaves. Chopped. It helps with the chewing. Next, add honey. Sweet, herby, scrumptious. So good, and you would never imagine. Unless you are Susan, of course. Thank you, dear friend. Eat with a cup of tea, I say.

In summation, the sandwich is a noble meal. Carbs, proteins, and veggies all mingle to pack a flavor punch. Like Susan and Caitlin, I challenge you to get creative in the kitchen! Come up with something new, and tell me all about it. Hillel the Elder will be so proud!

Something to be Happy About

Dear readers,

Well, what a week for the American celebrity scene. The United States and the world are mourning the loss of some incredible entertainers. Oftentimes, the death of a celebrity can be so jarring; mostly because we as a society tend to think of earth shakers like Michael Jackson as ageless beings. And though few people's day-to-day life will be changed by the passing of Michael and Farrah Fawcett (and I daresay nobody reading this blog), it serves as a reminder of our own mortality. Legends have passed, and so shall we.

Ok, ok. I know. It's not quite a bonny topic. But, it has been a pretty stressful week for us all. We lost an Angel and a King. Now to turn to more pleasant matters. Since we can safely say it has been a tough week news-wise, I thought it would be good to share some of the things I do to stay calm under emotional strain.

1.

14,000 Things to be Happy About, by Barbara Ann Kipfer. I was given this book for my 11th birthday and take it everywhere. The book is literally a list of 14,000 wonderful little things in life. For example:

- Blueberry pancakes

- Little girls in heart-shaped sunglasses

- "California Dreamin'" by the Mamas and the Papas

- Hand-knitted mittens

- Green ribbon

- France

- Spring in North Carolina

- Freshly sheared sheep

- Sweet basil

The list goes on that way for hundreds of pages. Calms me down right away.

2. Handel's Messiah

Ohhhh Handel. Mr. Baroque himself. With all that ornamentation and just... so many notes, it is impossible not to feel taken away. Or at least completely distracted by the listening experience. I would share the "Hallelujah Chorus," but I won't. No, no. "And the Glory of the Lord" will do just fine.

3. "The Belt Pose." Unlike the other two, you need a little room for this stress reliever. According to my yoga teacher, if you were to only be able to do one yoga pose for the rest of your life, this one would be it. The relief to the hips, back, and legs is marvelous. Its official name is Supta Padangusthasana, or "Reclining Big Toe Pose."

Basically, you lie on the floor, straighten out one leg, and stretch the other in the air using a strap (or belt). For more detail on this and other "restorative yoga poses," go here.

Whether mourning the King of Pop, sweating a relationship, or just fighting the day-to-day drag, give something uplifting a try! I am sure all of you have great little tricks for turning your day around and keeping you centered. What are they? Please comment!

"You make me feel good like a rock & roll band, I'm your biggest fan, California" -Joni Mitchell

Dear Readers,

 

I (of course) must begin this edition with an apology. I always go too long. But, this Bonney post is definitely worth the wait! In the past month, I have loved, lost, moved, and... traveled. Yes, indeed,  I traveled to the beautiful state of California for the first time. And what better place to start than San Francisco? Winding streets, delicious food, fragrant sea air, and a good friend to share it all. What a time. I would write for days about my experiences, but as they say in Italy, "Al contadino non far sapere quanto è buono il cacio con le pere."  Oh wait. That's "Don't tell a peasant how well cheese goes with pears."  

What is it I am trying to say? "El que quiera pescado que se moje el culo?"  Wait... that is Spanish for "Anyone who wants fish should go get his/her butt wet." Darn it.

I know there was something. What was it? "Un petit dessin vaut mieux qu'un long discours."  Ahh yes.  French for "A small drawing is better than a long speech." Well, I don't have any small drawings, but I do have some pictures, taken by the lovely and talented Caitlin Montgomery. Forgive the gratuitous use of my image. I just happened to be standing in the way of the view most of the time.

Muir Woods
is pretty gorgeous.
Don't you agree?

I'm now thinking about the possibilities of making that tree my permanent home. 

 

The next day, we went the other direction and saw the sea. The only sight that rivals the astounding Redwood is the Pacific Ocean. Scraggly coastline and twisting caves look out onto a blue expanse. 

Concrete has never been so lovely.
Taking flight!
Pottery cave.
Opens to yellow splendor: 
Not too shabby, eh?

Remember to play. 

And never be daunted. A good lesson for the month. Or life.

 

Caitlin, your pictures are beautiful, as are you. Thank you for being an inspiring friend and a perfect hostess. I can't think of a better way to see California.

 

Be Not Afraid

Dear readers.  I come to you with a humble offering.  In my former life at Furman (my metaphorical womb) our dining hall was my version of an umbilical cord, feeding me nutritious meals for the delicious price of $0. Thanks, Mom and Dad. However, we all have to be born sometime. Since my delivery from Furman, I have sought to re-create the healthfulness of dinner--and maybe up the delicious factor a notch.  Sometimes I have succeeded, sometimes failed miserably. Tackling the kitchen by myself can be a daunting task.

For all of you who are also faced with the frightening notion of COOKING, fear not. I have a recipe that sounds wildly complicated but is really quite simple. Risotto. Light, delicious, easy. A true triple threat.

And yes, you read me correctly. For although traditional risotto (one of the staples of Milanese cuisine) may strike fear into the hearts of novice cooks and health nuts--what with its creamy texture and use of multiple pots--this recipe is easy and much lighter than typical risotto. Behold.

Springtime Risotto 

Dishes Needed

One sauce pan (for heating the stock)

One large non-stick pan for making the rest of the dish

Food Ingredients

One large box of vegetable or chicken stock (contains about four cups).

One cup arborio rice. Don't try to use a different rice, it won't work. The way that type of rice is meant to be prepared is perfect for a risotto dish. 

One half cup dry wine. Cooking wine is fine, but I prefer to make my dishes with the same wine that I will serve. Makes the flavors blend better. But don't go with a sweet wine.  A dry pinot grigio or sauvignon blanc works much, much better. 

One half cup freshly grated parmesean cheese.

Two tablespoons (or as I say, a glug) of olive oil.

Salt and pepper to taste.

For seasoning, a few strands of saffron are delicious. 

However, if saffron is a. too expensive or b. unavailable, a pinch of turmeric works, too. 

Not as light a flavor, but gives the dish a little kick. 

Now to the vegetables. That is where you can have some fun. 

The original recipe calls for leeks and green garlic. And while I agree that leeks give a light "oniony" flavor without being to strong, and green garlic gives that much-needed garlic punch without being to heavy--I don't believe either are necessary. Go for leeks and green garlic if you want to go for broke, but otherwise I say don't worry about it. Onion and garlic work just fine. Just don't get too much of either. And whatever you do, cut them thin thin thin. These are meant to be compliments, not overpowering agents. 

I say half a small-medium onion and one garlic clove is plenty. 

And there are the basics. As for vegetables, you can go wild. I think peas, artichokes, sauteed mushrooms, or asparagus would be really delicious in this dish. I tried it with  frozen peas, and it was great. So feel free to try anything. Half the fun of cooking is the experimenting. 

Directions

In your saucepan, bring your chicken/vegetable stock to a simmer. It needs to be heated up when you add it to the rice. 

In your large non-stick skillet, add your olive oil, onion and garlic, and put to a medium heat. You want to cook these down to release their flavor, but do not brown them. Three minutes is probably good. They still have alotta cookin' to do.

Once those are in good shape, add your rice, and maybe a little more olive oil. It's your call. The coolest thing about arborio rice is that you toast it first. Stir it all around to make sure it is all coated with a little olive oil, about three minutes. 

Then turn up the heat a little and add your spices--turmeric or saffron, a pinch of salt, and the wine. Cook until it is absorbed. 

Then start adding your stock, about one cup to start.  The broth should bubble. Continue adding a little more as your rice absorbs all the liquid. A half cup every few minutes does it. And keep stirring. You will be adding new liquid for 20-25 minutes. 

Once all the liquid is mostly cooked down and your rice is taking on a creamy texture, add in your cheese and other vegetables. I put in my peas in their frozen state and the heat from the rice cooked them right away. Canned artichokes are already cooked so they can go right in. And if you want mushrooms or asparagus, I recommend cooking them seperately in a little olive oil and maybe a little wine before you put them in. But that does use a third pan. I know. I know. Lotta pans for one dish. 

Once all that is stirred in, your rice is soft and creamy, and everything is fragrant and delicious, serve it right up with a little pepper on top! I promise you, it sounds complicated, but it is easy. Really. A perfect spring or summer dish to be served with white wine. If you want to make a full meal for it, I suggest a crisp salad with a little olive oil and lemon juice as dressing. 

Happy cooking! 

Greetings from the Green Planet

I am delighted to be a part of the bright and dizzyingly happy festivities here at A Bonney Blog. I am not only Anna Beth's biggest fan, but if you're also a fan of Anna Beth, then I'm your biggest fan, too. Cheers all around.

[Unless you claim to be Anna Beth's biggest fan. In that case, I challenge you to a thumb war. I've never lost.]

A few notes on the following poem are in order. In keeping with the general tone of this place, I decided to try my hand at a poem about what you might call "universal" love. That is, the love we are capable of holding towards all people at any time—the Greeks would say Agape (since I know so much about Greek and stuff). I am satisfied with how I treated my theme, but now that it's finished it reads a bit darker than what you're probably accustomed to finding around here. But it ends well.

Another thing. This poem is heavily influenced by the rolling style of Bob Dylan's epic Americana poem, "Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie." Dylan's poem is very, very long. Mine is only pretty long (I'm twelve words shy of a thousand). His, of course, is much better.

This poem is meant to be heard rather than read. So, here is a recording, followed by the text. That way, if you want, you can feel free to read along with this thing, here.

I Guess

There's a funny feelin' in yer fingerbones

And a tightness in yer head

And you can't remember how yer chest

Got filled up with all them heavy chunks of lead

And yer knees are wobblin' and yer eyes are saggin'

And yer skin is rubberin' like it does when you're dead

And you suspect it's been a long time, but you don't really know

Since the last night you spent sleepin' in yer own room and bed

"It's time to get movin'," you keep sayin' to yerself

Time to start actin' on all them feelin's you've felt

You were gonna meet strangers with stories to tell

And read all them books still settin' up on that shelf

You were gonna write movies, you were gonna save lives

You were gonna take this old world and cut it down to size

At least you were gonna try

You say with a sigh

And you put yer head back down to work until five

Thinkin', "Jesus Christ, I know I used to be alive

I used to wear clothes that made me feel smart

I used to have controversial thoughts about art

I used to drink milkshakes and sing songs and play pranks

Clamoring around in my small, noisy car

What happened to me? Am I failed this soon?

Am I trapped in this white, uncarpeted room

Sweepin' with no straw on my broom?

Spinnin' with no yarn in my loom?

Singin' with no words for my tune?

Lookin' at my hands, wonderin' what they've done

to deserve this early, special kind a' doom?"

It's like yer whole body's been hangin' from a concrete chain

Wanderin' around on the streets that way

Then your head starts noddin'

And your mouth starts yawnin'

'Cause you feel like sleepin' even though you're out walkin'

But, what if, you then think, that's what you're already doin'?

It's a nightmare, alright,

This lonely newspaper world

And you're mad at yerself for givin' it a whirl

And yer mother writes you letters

That you've learned to ignore

And yer father's upset that you don't call anymore

So you eat noddles for dinner and you think it's the end

But you wake up again

Like you always do, my friend

You don't know what you're missin' and you don't know how to get it

And you're sad 'cause you didn't even know it back when you had it

So I want you to hear this

I want you to listen

Because I'd be cruel to keep it

It'd be rotten to hide it

And besides, it'd take root in my head and start growin'

Twistin' and turnin' until it was bigger than me

And I don't want to feel my skull all of a sudden

Flowering out like a mushroom explodin'

So I just gotta say it, and get you to hear it

Get some a' these plants into some other garden

Get some a' these cards into some other deck

Get some a' this whiskey into some other glass

Get some a' these zeros off of my bill

Put one a' these pies on some other folk's windowsill

Where it'll get a fairer chance at bein' served up on a plate

On a proper table, with a fork and cold milk

And that's really what I want, I guess

I want you to smell it, I want you to eat it

I want you chew it up with your teeth

And feel all them grainy bits up in your gums

In the back of your cheeks, and under your tongue

And I want you to savor all them funny strings and lumps

'Cause I know the problem that's got you and me

I've seen the dog holdin' on with its teeth

I've seen that gun drawn out of its sheath

I've felt them sweats at a quarter to three

When I'd wake up at night, and it was always just me

And that's it right there, to sum it up in a line

It ain't that you're scared

And it ain't that you're tired

It ain't that you're poor

And it ain't that you realized someday soon you won't be around anymore

No, what's hurtin' yer heart is that there's nobody with you

To make it hurt more

Which is easy to say and you've probably even thought it before

But you didn't wanna admit you can't make it alone

Through this shattered glass world

Of asphalt and bone

And maybe talk is cheap but I'm tellin' ya you can't

There ain't any water where you're tryin' to swim

There ain't any words where you're tryin' to read

The car that you're drivin' ain't got any gas

And you're hopin' that next hill's momentum'll last

To take you up the one after that

And I'm tellin' you, friend, that's gonna end bad

'Cause there's only one bottle you can pull from

There's only one tunnel you can go through

And it ain't on a highway

And it ain't in film

And it ain't in a coffeehouse

And it sure as hell ain't never found comin' out of no politician's mouth

It's simpler than that, and it's probably nearby

And yes I mean someone

But I don't mean your friends

You need a whole lot more than just them

You need someone who won't thank you for carin'

Someone who, when it's found out you been helpin'

Will raise the eyebrows of both of your parents

Someone who hates you

Someone who'd kill you

Someone who'd treat you like you were a child

And noone would notice when you just replied with a smile

And maybe I'm wrong, and maybe I'm dead

But if that ain't love

If that ain't what it is

Then what else could I, or you, or anybody at all

If that ain't love

What else could I a' said?

Anticipate Tomorrow!

My bonny readers, get excited; we have a published writer joining us tomorrow. After my Ode to Walker (see below), Mr. Pfost and I decided to have a blog swap on Tuesday.  While he posts here, I will write for the always-enticing "Justice Avocado." What an adventure for the word nerds! 

Whatever Walker creates is sure to be quite a treat, so check in tomorrow!

Ode to Walker

Since my dear friend Walker has been missing my posts these nine days, (see comments on my April 5th post for reference) I thought I would throw him a proverbial bone. So, without further ado, my Ode to Walker.

Walker, Walker, walky Pfost,

Out of all my guy friends, you are the most

clever with words, I do believe!

Your poetry blog is the bees knees.

You live in Korea, oh so far away,

A place with some snow (who knew?!) where you play

with kids! And teach them English, to boot,

Oh, WPf, you are such a hoot.

I visited your old home last weekend, it's true,

The Vista House is bursting with vibrant hues,

The colors of spring! Pink, periwinkle, and green,

So deeply peaceful. You know what I mean.

I was reminded of the time when you fixed my car,

I had left the top down and it rained so hard

My seats were soaked! You found a fan in a blink,

If not for you they'd still be damp, I do think.

Oh, WPf, what a pal! What a guy!

Watching Kite Runner, I thought I was sly,

As I slept through it all! But you knew, yes you did.

A friend like you really flips my lid.

It's been too long

Since I have posted! Bah!

I promise more this week.

What I Think About

Hello, readers. In the name of keeping all things bonny around here, I thought I would share some amusing facts I learned this week. I received an assignment at my job (you know, that little distraction that keeps me from writing nothing but bonny blog entries all day) to write a promotion for a zoo. Included in the project brief was a handy dandy printout entitled, “Animal Collective Names.” And while it did little to help me with my project, it has provided hours of amusement as I sit at my wee little desk. In the name of humor and hilarious visuals, I have decided to share some of the words that have kept me going this week.

 

Animal           Group Name

(singular)            (plural)

 

Alligator             Congregation (“I call this meeting to let you know that there are too many wildebeest thriving these days.”

Bat                      Cloud (If you are fortunate enough to see a group of bats in flight, they do resemble a cloud!)

Cobra                 Quiver (Now, who would really quiver in this situation? My call, Indian Jones.)

Cockroach         Intrusion (Indeed!)

Elephant            Memory (Elephant, memory, AHH HAHAHAHA!)

Emu                    Mob (“So listen up, pal. You have three seconds until I steal your wool and take     over your side of the grazing hill!”)

Ferret                 Fesnying or business (What the hell is a “fesnying? Also, imagine a ferret in a          business suit, just for a moment. Please.)

Flamingo            Flamboyance (Clearly.)

Giraffe                 Tower (Also, clearly.)

Guinea Fowl      Confusion (“Wait. Let me get this straight. You are a what? From where? G…?        I am just… wait... oh...)

Jellyfish            Smack (I always imagined the funny sound they would make if I were ever brave    enough to take a whack at a jellyfish. Or… smack.. rather.)

Nightengale      Watch (but what? I can not see! It is at night!)

Rattlesnake      Rumba (“Would you like to dance, RLes?” Actually, rattlesnakes are solitary          creatures. I know because I live in Texas. So having a dance party would be              difficult. But if you are ever lucky enough to come upon one of these fabulous          rattler parties, please let me know!

Rhinoceros       Stubborness (“I’m telling you for the LAST TIME, Ino! You hear me? The last         time!”)

Swallow            Gulp (“No, no, no. Gulp, then swallow. Then swallow!”) 

 

I kill myself.

 

Also, this informative print out ended with this note; “Another animal group that you may consider is a nag of wives and a jerk of husbands.”

 

Happy Friday. I am going to finish my work beer and go home. 

Wedding 1

Well, I am totally off kilter already. Thursdays were supposed to be my day for posting about weddings... or was it Saturdays? I am currently sitting in my office after having done five hours of work today, Sunday, so please forgive me. I will get back on track this week. But do not despair! I have a wedding for you today! 

This wedding comes from a fabulous website, Style Me Pretty. If you are engaged, in the wedding industry, or just style obsessed like I am it provides hours of pretty, stylish bliss.  The site is clearly aptly named. This wedding is DIY fabulous. It has the most beautiful use of paper, of all things. A smorgasbord of color! Hurrah!

Love those kiddos. 

Paper! I love creative use of paper!

Siiiiiiiighhhhh.

John and Gil

On the onset of this blog, I swore I would mention no personal details of my life. And while what I am about to say is not terribly personal, I fear I am beginning to slide down the slipperiest of slopes. Ready for my revelation?  

I was once a college student. Shocking, no? I attended Furman University and delved in the humanities for four glorious years, learning a little of philosophy, film, theatre, music, history, and writing quite a bit about it along the way. Pages and pages and pages of words flew (and sometimes oozed) off my fingers during my time there.

 And when I was in my senior year, after all that structured writing, I took a poetry class thinking, "Oh I have this in the bag.  Anna Beth Bonney = Prose Champion of the East. I'll have 'em weeping." What a little schmuck I was.  However, pride always cometh before a fall, and upon my first day in class, I realized two things. 1. I was nowhere near as awe inspiring as my professor, whom I adored from the first moment I heard him speak of how much he loved poetry. 2. I had no real conception of what poetry actually was, much less how to write it. Unfortunately, this knowledge swiftly spiralled into a dehabilitating inferiority complex that I wrestled with throughout the course.

My professor, a wise man, surely had seen other students make the overwhelmed and shamed expression I did during a particular meeting in regards to my poetry. "Dr. Allen!" I exclaimed. "I never like anything I write! My thoughts feel beautiful and original as they swirl in my mind, but when I try to word them out on paper every word seems ugly and cliché."

In response, Dr. Allen wordlessly stood. Walked to his considerable bookshelf. Selected a slim volume which turned out to be M.S. Merwin's Flower and Hand: Poems 1977-1983. He said, this poem may help. Of course a poetry professor would know the correct poem for every occasion, especially an exasparated student. He read, in his soft voice, through his bushy white mustache:

Berryman

I will tell you what he told me


in the years just after the war


as we then called


the second world war





don't lose your arrogance yet he said


you can do that when you're older


lose it too soon and you may


merely replace it with vanity



 

just one time he suggested


changing the usual order


of the same words in a line of verse


why point out a thing twice



 

he suggested I pray to the Muse


get down on my knees and pray


right there in the corner and he


said he meant it literally



 

it was in the days before the beard


and the drink but he was deep


in tides of his own through which he sailed


chin sideways and head tilted like a tacking sloop



 

he was far older than the dates allowed for


much older than I was he was in his thirties


he snapped down his nose with an accent


I think he had affected in England



 

as for publishing he advised me


to paper my wall with rejection slips


his lips and the bones of his long fingers trembled


with the vehemence of his views about poetry





he said the great presence


that permitted everything and transmuted it


in poetry was passion


passion was genius and he praised movement and invention

 



I had hardly begun to read


I asked how can you ever be sure


that what you write is really


any good at all and he said you can't



 

you can't you can never be sure


you die without knowing


whether anything you wrote was any good


if you have to be sure don't write



 

W. S. Merwin, Flower & Hand: Poems 1977-1983
Copper Canyon Press, Port Townsend, WA (1997) pp. 155-156]

Now, the writer and academic  who inspired Merwin's "Berryman" had a fascinating life, one I will address at a later date. But Gil Allen did not need to explain the history of John Berryman's life to me that day.  The lesson was learned. And while I still have not mastered or even begun to skate across the surface of the wide world of poetry, I am still writing.  Thank you, John and Gil.

Pennies From Heaven

This morning, sweet bliss, I woke up to the sound of rain tinkling on my windowpane. 

After a drought in Texas bad enough to be reported on in the New York Times,  the rat-a-tat-tating produced more wonderment and childlike giddiness than a birthday at the zoo. It was so lovely, words fail me. However, Billy Holiday never does. 

If you do not know the song "Pennies from Heaven," I suggest you listen to it here.

Pennies From Heaven

Oh every time it rains

It rains pennies from heaven

Don’t you know each cloud contains

Pennies from heaven

You’ll find your fortune

Fallin’ all over town

 

 

Be sure that your umbrella is upside down

Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers

If you want the things you love

You must have showers

 

 

So when you hear it thunder

Don’t run under a tree

There’ll be pennies from heaven

 

For you and me

Have a great day, everyone.