It’s official — I’m a great-aunt. Welcome, Haili.
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Archive for » November, 2003 «
It’s official — I’m a great-aunt. Welcome, Haili.
I may bitch and moan some (maybe even a lot) of the time, but when I stop and think about it, I have to realize how lucky I am.
*I have a wonderful boyfriend. The events of last month helped me realize just how great he is. And how lucky I am to have someone that loves me and supports me so much. He tells me I’m beautiful and sexy and that I can do anything I put my mind to. Who wouldn’t love that? *wink*
*My family is terrific. I’ve heard many horror stories about people’s childhoods. All I can say is I was a little too sheltered. But my parents & brother are great. I love them and miss them terribly every day that I’m not near them. I am truly lucky to have them.
*I have some really great friends. I don’t get enough time to spend with them, and they are there anyway. We are spending turkey day with some of them, in fact.
*I have a job I enjoy (while always wishing I made more doing what I like), food on the table, and a roof over our heads.
*My blog has been quite fun and I’ve met some wonderful people and made some friends out of the deal. I learn more about writing every day.
I hope everyone has a great day and we all remember to stop and be thankful for what we have – big or small.
I forgot to mention that I tried a peppermint mocha frap @ Starbucks. I kept reading about it on everyone’s sites and decided to try it. Oh. My. It’s deelicious.
I think I’ll have another. Tomorrow. Did I mention I don’t work tomorrow?
I think fran’s the only one that reads these, but that’s okay. I’m posting my Yeats paper anyway. Not certain I’m 100% happy with it, but I did write it late Sunday, so I get whatever I get because of the amount of time I spent on it.
As always, stealing is wrong, even if I have posted this on the web. If you plagarize, YOU make the choice to do it because you are LAZY. Learn to do your own work and take care of yourself. This is the real world.
Sailing into Symbols W.B. Yeats uses symbolism in �Sailing to Byzantium� to impart an underlying importance to his words. Yeats wants the reader to go beyond the surface to his true intent of implying a larger meaning in the poem. In the first stanza, Yeats refers to an unnamed country that is probably Ireland or England. This country is �no country for old men� (page 2109, line 1). It is a place where the old are useless and unwanted; the word �old� can mean close to death, as if the old men are going to die anyway, implying that one should not bother with them. The young rule. Age is not equivalent to respect. Yeats continues, referring to a young couple, probably lovers. Readers may also conclude that the image of youth being in �one another�s arms� (p 2109, ln 2) is a protective stance, perhaps a protection from old age and death. The stanza moves on to nature, with birds going about their business of singing in the trees. When Yeats refers to �dying generations� (p 2109, ln 3), one wonders if he means the birds or the trees. If he means the birds, he may refer to their short life span. If it is the trees, perhaps rampant development and industrialization show a disregard for nature�s beauty and usefulness. The salmon and mackerel (ln 4) phrases evoke an image of bodies of water, teaming with life. The word �commend� (ln 5) conjures an entrusting for care during the summer season � the prime season, a season of growth. Begetting, bearing, and dying (ln 6) envelop the life cycle, where everyone meets the same fate: death. When caught up in the senses, one is in the present moment. One forgets the wisdom and value of an older person. Youth discounts an ageing body, disregarding the knowledge contained therein � knowledge that does not age but in fact gets better with time. In the second stanza, Yeats opens with the notion that an �aged man is but a paltry thing� (ln 9). Paltry brings images of inferior, meager or trivial. One wonders if Yeats felt old and unwanted. Next, a tattered coat (ln 10) is not useful. It is full of holes and does not protect from the elements. It is on a stick, as if put out to pasture and is past usefulness. The qualifying statement of �unless� (ln 10) puts conditions on an old man�s existence. It tells him that he must sing and clap � he must move to action. However, clapping and singing evoke images of the church, which leads one to imagine obligation to religion and the church. An old man sings louder the more physical ailments he has, it seems to say. Complaints make for uninteresting company. Moving on, a study of monuments of magnificence implies that the church is full of its own importance and gluttony, rather than reaching out and helping the elderly. The church forgets that people are its most important work. The writer then flees to a place of escape, his own utopia of Byzantium. The third stanza starts with a plea to the sages. Sages are wise men � men that have lived many years. Wisdom comes from years of experience; this is a place that reveres age instead of rejecting it. The sages stand in �God�s holy fire� (p 2110, ln 17), which gives rise to several images. God led the Israelites in the desert while in the form of a pillar of fire. Baptism by fire usually means immersion in the Holy Spirit of the Godhead. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego did not perish in a fiery furnace because God stepped in with them. Readers can find many references in the Bible and religious writings that refer to God and fire. As Yeats moves on to mention a mosaic depicting martyrs, one questions if he refers to those that have died for, or in the service of, the church. As he calls the sages out of the fire, readers wonder what he wants them to do next. Perhaps the sages need to come out of the fire � and God�s presence � to focus on those around them. In addition, the writer requests the sages to be the �singing-masters� (ln 20) of his soul. Songs are used both in and out of church for expression and entertainment. He wants them to express what he is unable to. He also tells them to consume his heart. Once again, there is an image of fire, devouring, and burning. Fire is also a symbol of spiritual purification. The writer�s heart is sick with a desire to be young; his body is failing, yet his mind is sharp and healthy. He feels a sense of betrayal from the �dying animal� (ln 22) of the corporeal. He asks to be gathered into forever, like the martyrs in the mosaic: timeless. In the fourth stanza, the writer desires to be free from his body. He conjures images of reincarnation as he speaks of taking another form. Yet he does not want to revisit the life and death cycle, suffering through bodily deterioration again; he wants to come back as something more permanent. He desires to be immortalized through art with materials more lasting than flesh, but still in a recognizable form like the bird or tree. Again, Yeats mentions singing, making it a recurring theme throughout the poem. Yet readers question how the writer is better at the end of the poem than he was at the beginning. He ends doing the same thing with which he began, only in a different location. The latter singing, though, is less about self and the ailments one goes through and more about events of the world. It is less self-centered and more collective and therefore elevated above its previous purpose. Yeats uses symbolism throughout this poem to push readers to a new level of thinking. The poem is not just about the surface of the words used. It reflects a need for people to rise above self and work for the betterment of society and even humankind, while respecting the contribution of the elderly. copyright 2003 misspriss.org
I blocked the damn ink*tomi web*bo*t because i got tired of it using so much bandwidth. it indexs at least twice as much as go*ogle. if your ip address matches, sorry, let me know.
Five day weekend. Wheeeee!
I’m officially out of the office until December. Wheeee!
Did I mention that makes me happy? *grin*
What is the deal with my dreams and scary weather recently? It’s getting kinda creepy.
I disappeared for a bit. I am a prime example of why you should leave working on your blog to an expert. I know just enough to be dangerous.
The other day, while in one of those evil chain stores at the mall (The Body Shop, if you must know – I think I am going to need therapy to keep from shopping there), J decided that the fragrances were just too much for him. Instead of something simple, like say, “The smell is just too much; I’ll be outside” he says this:
“I’m having difficulty maintaining a presence here.”
What a dork. :*
I forgot to mention that we got our midterms back last night. Yay! Such a relief. I squeaked by with an A. Whew.
Also, my Sunday’s most listened to song (laugh if you want, but I grew up on Bluegrass Music & still enjoy it):
The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn
Alison Krauss & Union Station
Tell You a little story and it won’t take long,
‘Bout a lazy farmer who wouldn’t hoe his corn.
The reason why I never could tell,
That young man was always well.
He planted his corn in the month of June.
By July it was up to his eyes.
Come September, came a big frost.
And all the young man’s corn was lost.
His story, kith, had just begun.
Said: “Young man, have you hoed some corn?”
“Well I tried and I tried, and I tried in vain.
“But I don’t believe I raised no grain.”
He went down town to his neighbour’s door.
Where he had often been before.
Sayin’: “Pretty little miss, will you marry me?”
“Little miss what do you say?”
“Why do you come for me to wed?
“You, can’t even make your own corn grain.
“Single I am, and will remain.
“A lazy man, I won’t maintain.”
He turned his back and walked away.
Sayin: “Little miss, you’ll rue the day.
“You’ll rue the day that you were born.
“For givin’ me the devil ‘cos I wouldn’t hoe corn.”