one day at a time…
Wednesday, 1 October 2003

Pix Of The Day: Our Usual Hackneyed Autumn Entry
CREDITS: © NAME/LakelandCAM.co.uk MAPS: Windermere, and Alloway
When clicked, thumbnails popup enlarged versions of the images.

Windermere Mist © Tony RichardsAt this time of year, at least one of the CAM sites can be relied upon to produce shots for our hackneyed annual 'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness' feature. Tony Richards has been coming up with the goods for the mists as he did in 2002 with the leaves, though that entry was in early November. Charles Winpenny is our man with the fruits for 2003, already lined up for tomorrow's entry. The featured picture shows Windermere in the English Lake District on a late September morning. Our headline for today is clearly that very English way of speaking, where what is meant is the opposite of what is said: we never tire of the poet or the scenery. In 2002 we limited ourselves to Keats' first stanza: in 2003 we feel less constrained:
To Autumn by John Keats (1795-1821)

'SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
    To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
  And still more, later flowers for the bees,
  Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
  Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
  Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
  Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
    Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
  Steady thy laden head across a brook;
  Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
    Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
  Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
  And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
  Among the river sallows, borne aloft
    Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
  Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
  The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
    And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Due to circumstances beyond our control, today's entry was greatly delayed. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Perhaps a Burns quotation might have been more appropriate under the circumstances, though we solemnly promise that Maggie's tail was in no way involved:
From Tam O'Shanter by Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Nae man can tether time or tide.

On This day In 2002: Fashion Victims - Tue, 1 Oct 2002

Doughnut Wedding Cake © Ian Scott-ParkerSoon after we arrived to live in America, we were invited to Las Vegas for the wedding of a correspondent who had developed into a friend. In keeping with the sophistication of that city, our friend, who is a raconteur and bon viveur of wit, culture and urbanity, assembled a wedding cake made from 'Krispy Kreem' doughnuts. The humor was appreciated by the guests, and we are happy to say that his marriage seems to have survived that risky practical joke.

Later in the month we are all meeting again, to sample another high point in American food culture, the Fatburger (ad tags 'The Last Great Hamburger Stand', and 'Some people think all burgers taste the same... and some people watch Baywatch for the acting.'). Meanwhile the joke seems to have turned into a fashion victim's essential wedding reception accoutrement.

Perhaps we will order our Fatburgers in unsweetened wholemeal rolls, baked without steam so that they have a crust... nah! that will never catch on in this country. I am on occasion inclined to say, in a rather too loud voice, "Great burger, shame about the bun", but I have to admit that in Britain it's, "Lousy burger, lousy bun, what happened to the salad?... let's go someplace else!"

Friday night we went to the Sol Foods restaurant in Springdale, UT to hear IN•2•IT play. The duo had transmogrified into a trio, with the addition of Donna's sister Deanna, with the pair hitting some amazing high notes. We had the best burger I have ever eaten, in a halfway decent bun with chips (the menu called them 'fries') that would put many a Brit chip shop to shame. Excellent Polygamy Porter from the Wasatch brewery (as they say, 'Why have just one?' and 'Take some home for the wives!') accompanied the burgers, and would be relished anywhere that people have good taste in beer. Great night out, and there were even a few clubbable, though well behaved, tomahawk carrying Native Americans in the audience.

This place just goes on getting better. Shame about the bread.

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Jules Laforgue (1860-1887)
"Ah! que la vie est quotidienne."
Oh, what a day-to-day business life is.
'Complainte sur certains ennuis' (1885)