heat moving on
Jul. 11th, 2005 01:46 amDay somewhat hot. Not boilingly hot, but hot enough to be noticeably hot and to have me throwing the windows open and wishing I could throw them open wider. It might be an idea for me to invest in a fan before rising temperatures make me say at some point in the evening, "If only I had a fan . . ."
Tried what the bottle label called "sukiyaki sauce" -- one of the marinades from Kikkoman. Probably not very authentic, but rather nice for marinading some beef in, then stirfrying same with some leek, mushroom, and green pepper, on rice. Tasty.
Seem to be currently rereading some of the Diane Duane Wizard series, having wandered back into it while checking a reference that was niggling at me. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing to be doing . . .
. . . oh yes, work tomorrow.
---
Autumn
Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.
Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander along the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke
Tried what the bottle label called "sukiyaki sauce" -- one of the marinades from Kikkoman. Probably not very authentic, but rather nice for marinading some beef in, then stirfrying same with some leek, mushroom, and green pepper, on rice. Tasty.
Seem to be currently rereading some of the Diane Duane Wizard series, having wandered back into it while checking a reference that was niggling at me. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing to be doing . . .
. . . oh yes, work tomorrow.
---
Autumn
Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.
Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander along the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke