Swype poetry v.3

Finally! A new version of Swype poetry; the recurring post in which I type famous poems into my phone using the Swype keyboard and not correcting typos as I go. I don’t know if any of you like these posts at all, but I sure do. Today we’re Swyping an untitled satirical poem by ee cummings. See the real version here. Incorrect words are bolded and italicized.

—

“next to of course hours america I
love you land if the oilfields‘ and so fourth if
say can you after by the dawns early nr
country ’tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should widget
in every language evan deadanddumb
thy sons excl liam your glorious name by furry
by jingo by gee by fish but gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these ferox happy dead
wo rushed like lions to the roasting slaughter
the did not stop to think thri died instead
than shall the voice of livery be mute?”

He spoke. And strang rapidly a glass of weaker

—

(To see the other installments of Swype Poetry, click here and here.)

So, dears, what is your favorite poem? I would very much like to slaughter it with my phones’ typos.

Pretty pages, v.1

Alright lovelies! I’ve decided to add a new weekly feature to the blog and I’m outrageously excited about it. Grady and I have collected quite a bevy of vintage children’s books, and I want to spotlight the best of them here. So each week I’ll be writing about a different book. Have I mentioned that I’m excited about this? Because I am. Seriously excited.

In choosing books to be featured, I’ll be looking for titles that are unexpected, beautifully illustrated, and with a healthy message. Not every book will be likely to meet these categories, but I promise to be very discerning and only share my favorites.

Anyway, to spread out the weekly feature posts, I’m changing the schedule a bit. Not that it matters even one ounce, really, but the “10 cool” posts will move to Wednesdays, “Pretty pages” (my name for this book feature) will post on Fridays, and “Imaginary shopping spree” will remain on Sundays. So long as I remember to write them in time.

So! Let’s get on to it, shall we? For the first installment of “Pretty pages,” I’ve chosen a recent purchase; “The Great Moon Hoax,” written by Franklyn M. Branley and illustrated by Richard E. Brown.

In 1835  New York City newspaper printed some stories about flying animals that lived on the moon. Later these stories became the Great Moon Hoax. A hoax is a sort of trick or joke. So you could call these stories the Great Moon Joke. Here’s the way it happened. …

“The Great Moon Hoax” is the true story of the public believing false fantastical stories about the moon. I really love non-fiction children’s books, and good ones are hard to find. So this one is appreciated.

This book kind of reminds me of the stories used to test reading comprehension in standardized testing. Remember when they made you read those stories, and once in a while you’d come across one that was actually really interesting? This book is like that. The phrasing is simple and terse, but the subject is really awesome. And the illustrations? Well, they’re incredible.

“The Great Moon Hoax” is pretty hard to find. It’s more of a pamphlet than a book; it’s only 16 pages, and is bound with staples. But you can find a crazy expensive copy here, or some cheap used copies here. I got my copy at a thrift store.

Do you have any recommendations for books to highlight in Pretty Pages? Would you like to write a post as a guest? Let me know in the comments!

“boys are really hot”

Last week Grady and I accidentally* went to the thrift store, and had a pretty successful time. I’m in love with the colors of this print. There were two more similar to it — different bouquets in red and yellow — but they were $5 each which is a little too steep for me. This will go on the purple wall as soon as I find my stud-finder.

I also found these incredible flats, which I am mostly too afraid to wear. They are white lace in pristine condition, even though they’re vintage. I’m notoriously mean to my shoes, so the one time I wore these I had to be extra careful. I guess if when I ruin them I can just dye them another color.

I love this adorable dress I found for Grady. It won’t fit her until she’s at least four, but I had to get it because she looks so great in green.

But my favorite finds of the day were books. This is the one book I chose for Grady; it’s an addition to our Great Illustrated Classics collection. But what I love most about it are the ridiculous doodles. Yes, that hangman game does say “boys are really hot.” And yes, on the other side it says “I hate dylan but I still (heart) him.” And I totally used to make lists of my friends like that.

Grady picked most of her own books for the first time, and let me just say: She has awesome taste. She picked about ten gorgeous new and vintage picture books with amazing illustrations. This one is my favorite.

*No, really, it was an accident. I fully intended to go to the craft store to get a couple supplies for the shop, but the thrift store is just right next to the craft store and I guess I got a little confused by the heat. I only realized I was in the wrong place once I’d put Grady in the cart, so I might as well peruse a little.

———

The final Shoe Week giveaway on Sometimes Sweet is a pick-your-own! I’m getting kind of desperate in my need for these:

Swype poetry, v. 2

Remember Swype Poetry? In which I type famous poems into my phone to show how awful Swype’s typos can be? (As a refresher, Swype is a kind of keyboard in which you drag your finger between letters instead of punching buttons. It is great sometimes, but its typos are always way off mark.) Anyway, I once thought of making it into a short-lived series, so here is the second installment. The Swype version of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “I shall forget you presently.” As usual, incorrect words are bold and italicized.

I shall forgery you presently, mt dear,
So make the most of rhys, your little dad,
Your little mints, your little half a yeast,
Were I forgery it due out move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forgery your, as I said, but now
If yo entreat me with your loneliest lite
I still protest you with my favorite view.
I would indeed that live we’re longer lived,
And oaths we’re not do brittle as thru are,
But do it is, and natures has contrived
To struggle on without a break this far,–
Whether or not et find what we are seeking
Is isle, chronologically soaking.

There you have it. On the bright side: Only 37% of those words are wrong.

Imaginary shopping spree: Amazon books edition

Left-to-right, top-to-bottom:

1. Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower.
2. The Purity Myth: How America’s Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women by Jessica Valenti.
3. The Geography of Nowhere: The Rise and Decline of America’s Man-Made Landscape by James Howard Kunstler.
4. Mathilda and the Orange Balloon by Randall de Seve.
5. Hey, Shorty: A Guide to Combating Sexual Harassment and Violence in Schools and on the Streets by  Joanne Smith, Meghan Huppuch, Mandy Van Deven, and Girls for Gender Equity.
6. This Sex Which is Not One by Luce Irigaray.
7. The Hundred-Foot Journey by Richard C. Morais.
8. Roots Shoots Buckets & Boots: Gardening Together with Children by Sharon Lovejoy.
9. The Curse of the Good Girl: Raising Authentic Girls with Courage and Confidence by Rachel Simmons.
10. Dillweed’s Revenge: A Deadly Dose of Magic by Florence Parry Heide.
11. Everything Is Going to Be Great: An Underfunded and Overexposed European Grand Tour by Rachel Shukert.

Stately ponies

I’ve almost definitely blogged about this little project before, but I don’t think I’ve given it a proper post. I found these magnificent bookends at the thrift store a few months ago, and fell in love immediately. Only problems:

• The paint was chipping, but they were too intricately carved to be sanded.
• The color was awful. That seventies reddish-brown.
• They were basically useless. Made out of wood, they weren’t heavy enough to function as bookends. Not even close.

Solutions:

• I bought a can of gray spray-paint primer and gave them each two very light coats.
• I originally thought I would spray paint the final color on, but it was too difficult to get the spray paint in those little crevices without making a drippy ugly mess. So I gave them three coats of acrylic paint. Yup. It took forever.
• I screwed them into the bookshelf  from below. Now my bookshelf has a hole in it, but it’s worth it.

I particularly love these because they surround my favorites of Grady’s library.

An explanation of my constant texting typos.

Alright. I’m posting this from my phone, obviously, to show the typo damage one can do with a swype keyboard if one isn’t careful. Like one often is.

Anyway, here is Shakespeare’s 116th sonnet, written without typo correction.

(Typo words in bold. I have already corrected 7 wrong words in this intro. Stupid phone.)

Key me nor to the marriage of true minda
Admit impediments. Love is nor love
Which alerts when it allegation find,
Our bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is am ever-fixed mark
That looked on reports and if never shaken;
It is the stay to evey wandering bark,
Whose who’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Lovers not Tone’s foil, though today lips and cheeks
With hours bending sickle’s compass cone:
Love alters not with his brief hours and eels,
But bears it or even to the wags if soon.
If this be error and upon me proposed,
I never weir, not no man every loved.

UGH.

books.

Image by happy via via Flickr

These two things are probably related:

• My computer is in the shop so I haven’t been able to read/write blog posts for a while – the last few were either written on my phone or written ahead of time and scheduled to post automatically.
• I’ve been reading actual books faster that I can update my “Currently reading” widget.

So anyway, I finished Faultline and also finished Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Now that I’ve gotten to the point of this post, it seems really dumb.

In homage to the boy in ELIC, here’s an invention: What if there was a thing that put cubicles in your brain so that when you were frustrated about one part of your life, the frustration wouldn’t bleed out into the other parts?

Other things: I finished ELIC in four days and loved it. I’m now reading The Read-Aloud Handbook. I’m getting antsy for some feminist lit.

Out with the old, in with what’s better.

I gave John Henry Days a chance (a 121-page long chance, technically) but I give up. Not the book isn’t well written or interesting. My only criticism is that it’s all too male. Or masculine. Difficulty determining which term is correct.

And obviously, that’s more of a comment about the reader than the book itself.

So anyway, I give up! I’m ditching Colson Whitehead and picking up Sheila Ortiz Taylor’s Faultline. Which I’m certain holds no threat of being too manly for my tastes.

After about a page and a half, I was totally sold on Faultline. Not to count the chicks before the eggs have hatched, but I love this book. Favorite part so far:

“To me it’s saner having three hundred rabbits than obsessing over someone else’s having three hundred rabbits.”

(You may have probably haven’t noticed, but I never got around to reviewing To the Lighthouse. This is mostly because any attempt would make me look like a complete ass. I’m considering posting a round-up of good quotes like this, but the book doesn’t lend itself to excerption.”

Lovely Sunday

I’m getting pretty excited about these embroider-things. One is already designed and I’m working on the finishing touches of another design right now. Thrilled to have a pressing reason to stitch.

This version of the song from Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing has been stuck in my head since I woke up, and it’s having such a calming effect. I am sighing no more, as it were. Also having a calming effect? The fact that Grady didn’t wake up until 8 a.m. today. Being able to sleep in that late was just laughably wonderful.

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no more,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey, nonny, nonny.”