Following Suit
Consumed with: Feeling "unhorsed." Not even sure what I mean by that, but I used the phrase this last Wednesday with my Wednesday car pool bunch. Thrown, I suppose, but not particularly wanting to get back on the horse either. I missed Thursday, staying home to take care of Mr. Baby while he was on the mend from a stomach bug, and then Friday, I took my math class downtown on the 92 bus, while we wandered around doing "mathy" kinds of things under a gorgeous blue sky. No horses to be seen: I enjoyed just wandering around on my feet.
Hoping for: Another magical post-Thanksgiving trip over to the Renaissance Festival. Last year's day still reverberates inside of me, calling me back for more.
Listening to: Right now, the quiet thrum of this here computer in the early morning quiet, but yesterday's soundtrack was Sade's Love Deluxe CD. I walked past the family room and saw that Mr. Baby was grooving to it, too.
Enjoying: This quiet and the still dark and the fact that Ms. Crusoe showed up at her blog after long travels with another of her darkly lush pieces.
Just finished reading: Elmore Leonard's Road Dogs. Very fun read. I was thinking yesterday that EL is a poetry mentor of mine as well: I can feel his rhythms in the lines. My mother has seen EL several times at book signings: has him sign her books, to my Number 1 fan...
Watching: In yesterday's gorgeous weather, at the ArtPeace festival at our church, I watched Mr. Baby climb and stand in the very top branches of a thick crepe myrtle tree, the sun lighting his face as he emerged from the leaves.
Wishing for: father Tom's full and healthy mend from this past week's surgery.
To further follow Ms Anno, wishing you all wonderful weekends, wonderful skies, wonderful unhorsings.
Namaste.
Labels: unhorsed
posted by murat11 at 6:34 AM
14 Comments:
Unhorsed, and to some extent domesticated. Love the song, bro. Keep on singing. And don't worry about being unhorsed because as the Chinese moral tale says, you can't truly enjoy the flowers from the back of a galloping horse. And it sounds to me as if Muravia is just bursting with blossoms of love.
"Unhorsed," sounds like what I want to feel these days. Not thrown. But moving only at the speed my feet can take me? ... that would be good. Unfortunately, it looks like it might mean giving up one of my horses.
Am curious to hear more about this math class of yours and the mathy field trip you took downtown. Presumably it involved more than just taking a numbered bus. Lucky students.
Glad to hear of your beautiful weather and Mr. B's climb up the crepe myrtle tree; all your good books, good dreams, and good wishes -- wonderful to catch up with you again.
Teresa: Thanks for the reinforcement: I agree completely about the flowers. Part of the "quandary" is the fact that this past week's weather has been so gorgeous: it has seemed completely criminal to go indoors. If I'm feeling the need for some walkabout time at this time of year, you know the kids are. I provide plenty of creative "walkabout" and fodder time in the classroom, but even that's not anywhere near the fodder time of meandering the downtown streets of Tres Leches.
Anno: I really enjoyed reading your update, and writing in response to its promptings.
Very simple formula for the field trip: it's a practical/consumer math class. We researched, comparison-shopped, budgeted, planned, timed, and managed - before, during, and after. It was fun to see all the ways math would crop up along the way. Even walking through the posh King William district, looking at real estate flyers, figuring the likely commissions that would be reaped...
nice way to show kids that yes, they will use this after they get out of school :)
I love seeing these everyday thoughts and experiences through your eyes. There's something about the light..
Dee: Nice way to have an "official" walkabout, too, with some enjoyable kids in tow.
It must be a joy to be your student!
Dear Murat,
From conic sections to colonic selections (which should be found at any good charcuterie should you go walkabout, again) it is always good to know that math is appreciated.
(Normally circles or ellipses can be carved from sausage-sections of colonic selections. Physicists have been known to hold out serving platters until they finish cutting complete parabolas, but they are usually waiting delivery of their spherical cows. Engineers cut ham-fisted hyperbolas in the ultimate win of the 'new' white meat over red. But, I seriously digress.)
My only fear would be if you took your charges 'round a square and made a complete revolution... ...and they then ended with the wrong idea...
(The dark side of transcendental meditations, no? I mean, sure, Anaxagoras was already in jail, but his TMs didn't speed his egress, did it...)
On a different note... (A#)
Happy belated birthday, Herr Murat, and many happy returns throughout the year.
Given the joie de vivre that exudes with every rhyme and comma and exclamatory interjection which I, and all the others read, voraciously, I am sure that the joy you send out to the eworld, to your students, and to the crepe-crawlers will be amply repaid in turn and in kind.
As you richly deserve.
And unhorsed?
Well, we all get that way sometimes.
I rather like Teresa's take, and I am sure that all will work its way out. Maybe the cost of puttering and pirouetting is a bit of momentary unhorsingness. Or not.
Anyway, if it, unhorsingness, ever was too much I know from your photo that the gauchos of Uruguay would help you become one with that horse, be it a palomino, an ur-horse, or even an un-horse--should you so desire it. Those Uruguayan gauchos are just that good.
And, further, it is plainly obvious that you have some connection, at least in today's post, with them. Or there.
Alright. Enough. With that, I retreat.
Tschuess,
Chris
Teresa: As much joy as it is being their teacher, I hope.
Chris: I am quite enjoying the unhorsing, once giving into the green grass under my rump. Charcuterie: now, there's a nifty idea for the next field trip! As for squares and circles, I believe we've already made at least a semi-revolution - we are all quite the motley bunch.
Birthday greetings back at you, amigo.
Unhorsed. I like the sound and picture of it. Added to your own description of the unhorsed state, I imagine that’s how I feel, and I like it. It goes well with what’s going on these days: feeling a strange freedom in having my ass kicked by new life learnings.
You know I tasted me a sample of Junot Diaz, got his “Drown” as a result of your post eons ago. Oh, Yum! Taste led to gorge and I got the Pulitzer Prize winning main course. All that to say: one, you’re a good book review source, your EL’s “Road Dogs” recommendation having also got me interested, and two, I’d have EL or anyone sign my book like that too, yass indeed : )
Not sure about that unhorsed for you, Muchness. Thass a big bucephalus you riding over at "disenthralled." Goes without saying that it is well-deserved. We'll always be your spoiled bunch, but wouldn't hurt for the bigger world to sample your plenty.
I was wondering if Shiz's Ode might have synthesized some of recent life in the Much lane. Not (god, hopefully not) the big dramas and headbashings, but just the notions of iceberg inattentions and what can come down the pikes in response.
As for Junot, I'd go full tilt with Oscar: that is one gorgeous conflagration: apparently the fool was recently here in town at Trinity for a public reading: friend ran across him on campus. Damn. I'm outta the loop.
Off to Jersey for a quick in-laws visit this weekend: back by Monday afternoon, weeklong Thanksgiving R&R. Decided to follow up Elmore with another go-round with Moby Dick. Seems just the right segue, dontcha think?
This unhorsedness reminds me of a comment yesterday by the woman who cuts my hair. She said she'd found herself holding a rope and didn't know if it meant she'd just come into a rope or lost a horse. (She moonlights as a spiritual counselor and yes, I feel quite comfortable with her monkeying around with my crown chakra. One of these days she'll be the subject of a blog post.)
But back to THIS post: I don't believe you need a horse, man. You're riding the reflections into the sunset and beyond. I will have to hie to Anno's place one of these days. I always enjoy reading her comments here.
I love the picture of Mr. Baby up in the crape myrtle. You do realize that Mr. Baby might have been the nickname of Zaccheus, no?
San: I love the rope woman's speculations. I have found unhorsedness to be just the ticket: it came out of my mouth at the time as commentary akin to "the best laid plans," but instead has resolved itself into a celebration of increased spontaneity and planlessness.
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