Hello, Loyal Reader (which is, as far as I can tell, not far off the mark).
I mean Ashley.
Please be patient: we were all ready to go on Friday when we discovered that blogspot doesn't like long videos--a discovery more than an hour in the making. So we'll be late this week: have to do a redux of the house tour (under 1 minute). Also had a cute interview with #3, but that, too, will have to be cut. So solly.
Meantime: Halloween happened, Wii party with the Turners was a blast, took the church stuff over to the new digs on Friday afternoon, and, after hearing about Dave's interview at Mayo, vascillated between absolute self-loathing and the profound sense we are where we need to be, that my time to shine will come, and that for now I must contented be with the promise of eternal reward. In other words, get on with life.
Way to go Dave and Amber! And way to go, Ricky! No surprises on either count. Godspeed you both.
A bientot,
J
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Jean Leon Gerome, 1879
or, Travels With My Giddy Aunt, wherein the authors discuss their adventures, misadventures, shocks, surprises, disappointments, hopes, dreams, nightmares, complexes, successes, environs, travels, gaffes, faux-pas, and hairstyles for the benefit and pleasure of loved ones near and far, and for voyeuristic strangers that make them slightly nervous.
The Call to Prayer
Jean Leon Gerome, 1879
Call To Prayer (Adhan)
Lente, lente currite noctis equii: (Allahu ackbar!)*
Given its head, the night runs faster than a man can breathe
Its nostrils pant, its dusky edges heave,
And I am pulled from sleep too soon:
The yellow tones of morning and the morning song
Too early crowed, but not in the cock’s throat.
The call to prayer comes early:
“Our alarm clock,” quipped a friend,
Indicating the humble mosque at his front door.
We have one, too. We all do in this garden city,
This oasis overrun but not yet ruined,
And the mosque, with its staggered chorus
Of muezzin, fairly owns us, night and day:
There’s hardly time to leave off praying my litany of regrets
From a day spent seeking more help than I had given
Before I’m called back to my knees.
I do not join the sweated worship of the immigrants,
But I think of prayer far more here than ever before,
For God is great indeed, and it is better to pray than sleep,
Even if all one does is pray to sleep a little more
Before the panting night is stabled, brushed, and fed,
And the mu'adhdhin clears his rooster throat.
Its nostrils pant, its dusky edges heave,
And I am pulled from sleep too soon:
The yellow tones of morning and the morning song
Too early crowed, but not in the cock’s throat.
The call to prayer comes early:
“Our alarm clock,” quipped a friend,
Indicating the humble mosque at his front door.
We have one, too. We all do in this garden city,
This oasis overrun but not yet ruined,
And the mosque, with its staggered chorus
Of muezzin, fairly owns us, night and day:
There’s hardly time to leave off praying my litany of regrets
From a day spent seeking more help than I had given
Before I’m called back to my knees.
I do not join the sweated worship of the immigrants,
But I think of prayer far more here than ever before,
For God is great indeed, and it is better to pray than sleep,
Even if all one does is pray to sleep a little more
Before the panting night is stabled, brushed, and fed,
And the mu'adhdhin clears his rooster throat.
Copyright JaPes, 2007
*"Lente, . . . ": "Slowly, run slowly, ye horses of night!" (from Christopher Marlowe's Tragicall Historie of Doctor Faustus); "Allahu ackbar!": "God is great!" (An arresting exclamation these days, but like U2 and that song Charles Manson stole from the Beatles: "we're stealin' it back!").
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4 comments:
Thank you for the update. I was getting worried. Can't wait to see the house and hear about all else!
Rude! We read it regularly too! What is going on with Amber and Dave? And Ricky? Why are your children just numbers now? That's all I've got.
ditto to ash, i too am excited to see the house.
ditto to hobo, rude! we read too, meaning darren and i. that says alot...i'm not sure he even reads mine;)
we love you guys.
Love it...blogs, what did we ever do before this? Hey, who are you, Hobo? My stab in the dark is Darcy, but I could be way off? Hey Jon, did you ever figure out who Ahnos was? :) It really is so great to keep updated this way, keep it up. Wendy and I are having a heck of a time with the communication on facebook! :)
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