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View Diary: Going "Green." My Efforts. What Do You Do? Lets Chat & Share Ideas (130 comments)

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  •  :-) (1+ / 0-)
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    flowerfarmer
    watermelon rind pickles
    They are practically a requirement for Thanksgiving dinner in my house.

    This:

    infused with the taste of summer, is best savored in the depths of winter
    reminds me of Ray Bradbury's observations about dandelion wine. Since I can't reproduce all of chapter 3 here, I'll just bring in Grandma:
    Yes, even Grandma, drawn to the cellar of winter for a June adventure, might stand alone and quietly, in secret conclave with her own soul and spirit, as did Grandfather and Father and Uncle Pert, or some of the boarders, communing with a last touch of a calendar long departed, with the picnics and the warm rains and the smell of fields of wheat and new popcorn and bending hay. Even Grandma, repeating and repeating the fine and golden words, even as they were said now in this moment when the flowers were dropped into the press, as they would be repeated every winter for all the white winters in time. Saying them over and over on the lips, like a smile, like a sudden patch of sunlight in the dark.

    Dandelion wine. Dandelion wine. Dandelion wine.

    ~ Ray Bradbury, from chapter 3 of Dandelion Wine (1957).

    "War is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate." ~ Al Cleveland & Marvin Gaye (1970)

    by JBL55 on Thu May 23, 2013 at 04:22:43 AM PDT

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    •  JBL55, it would be great if (1+ / 0-)
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      JBL55

      we were next door neighbors.

      Kindred spirits, for sure.

      Love Bradbury- i have Martian Chronicles on tape, which i have listened to when i have hand work.

      Every copy of his work has traveled thru the decades with me, from Arizona and back again to New England, dog-eared and yellowed, but much loved.

      Looking at a piece of land today, in Effingham, NH.
      Abuts 3000 acres of state forest.
      I am feeling lucky.

      'A scarlet tanager broke the silence with his song. She thought of the bird hidden in the leaves somewhere, unseen but nevertheless brilliant red. Nevertheless beautiful.' Barbara Kingsolver/ Prodigal Summer

      by flowerfarmer on Thu May 23, 2013 at 06:02:33 AM PDT

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      •  When Bradbury died ... (1+ / 0-)
        Recommended by:
        flowerfarmer

        ... I left work early, drove home, went straight to my bookshelves and pulled out several battered collections of short stories so I could read some aloud to my husband as we sat on the porch.

        It was also in honor of my late seventh grade English teacher who read "All Summer In A Day" aloud, a moment which introduced me to Bradbury and started a lifelong love.

        Somewhere along the way I lent (and lost) my copy of Dandelion Wine so I couldn't read my favorite passages from that, including:

        “Stop!” cried the old man.

        Douglas pulled up and turned.

        Mr. Sanderson leaned forward.

        “How do they feel?” The boy looked down at his feet deep in the rivers, in the fields of wheat, in the wind that already was rushing him out of the town. He looked up at the old man, his eyes burning, his mouth moving, but no sound came out.

        “Antelopes?” said the old man, looking from the boy’s face to his shoes. “Gazelles?”

        The boy thought about it, hesitated, and nodded a quick nod. Almost immediately he vanished. He just spun about with a whisper and went off. The door stood empty. The sound of the tennis shoes faded in the jungle heat.

        Mr. Sanderson stood in the sun-blazed door, listening. From a long time ago, when he dreamed as a boy, he remembered the sound. Beautiful creatures leaping under the sky, gone through brush, under trees, away, and only the soft echo of their running left behind.

        “Antelopes,” said Mr. Sanderson. “Gazelles.”

        He bent to pick up the boy’s abandoned winter shoes, heavy with forgotten rains and long-melted snows. Moving out of the blazing sun, walking softly, lightly, slowly, he headed back toward civilization . . .

        "... the boy’s abandoned winter shoes, heavy with forgotten rains and long-melted snows."  Brilliant.
        Looking at a piece of land today, in Effingham, NH.
        Abuts 3000 acres of state forest.
        I am feeling lucky.
        Wow.  Best wishes for happiest outcomes!

        "War is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate." ~ Al Cleveland & Marvin Gaye (1970)

        by JBL55 on Thu May 23, 2013 at 06:51:27 AM PDT

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