Here.

The new edition of Zoetrope: All-Story came in the mail today. Guest designer Tom Waits. A fifth of the cover is torn off, and the photograph of Tom Waits on the back of the magazine has various tears through it. I’m unable to decide whether this was by his design, the anonymous mechanics of the US Postal Service creating a new medium of found art, or a post-production scheme by Tom Waits to meddle with housewives enduring deteriorating intellectual capacities. Perhaps Evelyn could explain this to me. It’s somebody’s commentary on something somewhere, for certain.

Nathanael bought me a pot of yellow tulips two weeks ago. We thought they were of the regular variety, but ever since they’ve come to reside in our house they’ve exploded like small stars blowing up, or screaming lion heads. If I had better ears I’m sure I’d hear the unnatural sounds they’re emitting.

Diapers arrived in the mail from Baby Cotton Bottoms. My first order from them, and let me just say, I give them my full reccomendation.

Goodfellas also arrived from Netflix.

Saw the documentary Born into Brothels last week. The sins of the fathers are passed unto the children, and down generational lines. Let us all beware of what trials we might leave our children.

Custom Brew Brings The Young Crowd to Church

‘How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?’

An album I’ve recently listening to as a sort of sublime, relaxing mid-day music is the three-disc orchestral adaptation of poet William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, composed by William Bolcom, conducted by Leonard Saltkin, and performed by the University of Michigan Symphony Orchestra and quite a divers cast of singers. In my wild machinations to make the baby the most intelligent person on the planet he shall be listening to quite a lot of this.

NPR’s Morning Edition interviewed William Bolcom about the project back in October.

N. and I first had Chimay during our courtship while having dinner at The Copper Grill (very, very fine steaks) last March, and have since taken to purchasing it at Chan’s Wine World in Destin.

Chimay is brewed by Trappist monks at the Abbey of Scourmont in Belgium. Also known as Cistercians of the Strict Observance, these monks follow the rule of St. Benoit, dating back to the 6th century. It is from the Abbey of La Grande Trappe, in Normandy, that the popular name of ‘Trappists’ originates. Thomas Merton, you may remember, was himself a Trappist at the Abbey of Gethsemani, Kentucky. The Trappists of Scourmont have perfected the art of triple-fermented beer which is brewed at the Abbey and bottled at Baileux, a few kilometres away. The Trappists of Scourmont also make cheese that is said to be excellent. A majority of the profits from the beer and cheese are used for various Trappist charities. The Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky, which is a lot closer in proximity for most of us, produces cheese, fruit cakes, and bourbon fudge.

I drove out to the Emerald Coast Wine Cellar this afternoon and purchased a crate of local muscadine wine. It’s a beautiful day out; a peaceful drive along the beach, in the quiet and windy sunshine. Perhaps we’ll go for a walk tonight.