inkgrrl's inkblog

I’m happy to say that I had a great birthday weekend! Not only was our Housewarming/Geminifest party a success with much food (burgers and babaganoush) and drink (Red Wing and tequila in various forms) and fun (silliness and South Park) had by all, but Sunday was perfect and peaceful. First we quested for my birthday present – Ali bought me a guitar with all the trimmings, then we ran all over town using the gift certificates that various folks got us as housewarming presents, then we had a great dinner at a little Italian place on Ventura Boulevard and rented a few movies to watch at home. I had originally had my heart set on seeing Attack of the Clones this weekend (dragging the hubby as part of my birthday indulgence) but so many people have been bad-mouthing it, in addition to spilling all the beans about what happens, that I kind of have a sour taste in my mouth now about paying to watch it on the big screen. Plus my feet hurt and the best theater around to see it at would have involved much walking (laziness is the curse of the lazy). Ah well. Monday was somewhat more somber, given the tone of the day – folks seem to be taking greater note of the intention of Memorial Day this year.

On another note, the Washington Post has this article about a company called Caedmon Records that records famous authors reading from their own work. Barbara Cohen Holdridge, a co-founder interviewed for the article, mentioned (among other things) a time that “she traveled to Washington to record poet Ezra Pound at St. Elizabeths Hospital, and he hurled a salami at her. Another time, ‘he stood in the garden reading Provencal poetry about birds. As he spoke all the birds began to sing. It was the most incredible thing.’” I love that image – Pound hurling a sausage. I’m sure it’s a condolence to the cow or pig that their sausage gave its life for art.