As the Snow Melts . . .

Sound Evokes Memory

My most recent writing class explored various sounds as prompts. Jingle bells predictably led to some Christmas memories, as well as a description of a Native American pow wow, complete with Jingle Dancers. My grandmother's music box revealed that several class members had owned music boxes with a twirling ballerina on top -- while one had longed for one but received, instead, a practical winter coat.

There was some particularly fine writing - these folks are amazing at being given a prompt and in ten minutes' time coming up with funny/ poignant/ philosophical responses.

After the jingle bells, the music box, the mooing cow, and the passing train, I asked them to write about either the sound of music or the music of sound. And they did.

One woman began her piece by stating that she hated the musical The Sound of Music. Another agreed with her and they slapped hands in sisterhood.  Eventually we came to a third woman who sheepishly admitted that in her youth she had loved the musical and played the record as she was going to sleep, singing along with the various roles.

And I remembered myself -- high school age, playing myself to sleep with Les Baxter's Ritual of the Savage -- exotic jungle music which I accessorized with a sprig of confederate jasmine on my pillow, allowing me to inhale its heady scent as my room throbbed to the music of drums and flutes and woodwinds.

I hadn't thought of this for years, but when I went on an online search for Les Baxter albums, the cover jumped out at me, familiar as a well-loved book.

I also varied the ritual now and then by listening to Bolero, and imagining myself as one of the ice dancers I'd seen years before in a performance of the piece as the climax of a Holiday on Ice show. Exotic Asian beauties glided about, whishing together sheaves of rice and a gilded, half-naked hunk of a skater exploded into their midst, choosing a maiden and whirling her with an intensity that left all of us weak.

I think there was also a volcano.

Snark As A Verb?

It's happened again -- a writer in one of my classes uses snark as a verb  -- as in, "Oh, I'm sure you do," she snarked, and I cringe as if someone had run a fingernail down a blackboard.  

Merriam Webster says that snark (used as a noun to mean an irreverent sarcasm) first came into use (as a noun) in 1999. (Yes, I know about Lewis Carroll's "The Hunting of the Snark" and I'm not sure there's any connection.)

Spell check seems to acknowledge snarky but no other iterations of snark. Still, an online search reveals several examples of snark as a verb. 

I still hate it.

I know, I know, English is a living, evolving language and I'm old enough to remember actual blackboards and chalk and am therefore probably more set in my grammatical preferences.  

In my opinion, snark et al are still a bit slangy and not appropriate for all uses. Dialogue? Sure, go at it. Or if the voice the writer is cultivating is a slangy one, then fine. But, in general narration? 

What do you think? Do you use snark in speech or writing? Do you use it as a verb? (I won't judge, I promise.) I want to hear some other opinions.)

By the way, I have a similar reaction to the use of husk as a verb meaning to speak in a husky tone. "Oh, Lord Errol," she husked, "my maidenhead is not for sale."

(Though I did use it myself once -- but it was in a humorous/satiric /one might even say, snarky piece.)

Enjoy the Walk-- Snow Tomorrow . . .

Josie Is Disappointed By Carolina Basketball

Just Hellebores...

From Snow to Almost Spring

After the snow of Wednesday, the weather decided to moderate and I took a little walk.  

It was nice to see that the early flowers were persisting . . .

And at the edge of the woods, nettles were springing up. I'll let them get a little bigger before donning gloves and harvesting them for a spring cream of nettle soup.

A few trees are hazed with green . . .

And the trilliums are unfolding their trios of frog-speckled leaves.

The sedums are a lesson in resurrection . . .

And, at last, there are enough daffodils to pick a few for the house.

Wait for It . . .

Aji Amarillo and Coconut Milk Braised Chicken

The Knight cousins from Florida have been visiting and we have been eating like kings. Unfortunately, we have demolished each meal before I could think to get a picture. Except for last night  . . .

Thanks to our friend Cory who sent me the link to the recipe  

(HERE )and encouraged me to try it. It required sending off for the yellow pepper paste but aside from that, it was an easy recipe -- chicken and butternut squash braised in coconut milk that is flavored with the fruity/hot yellow pepper paste. It could almost be a Thai recipe -- except it's Peruvian. 

We served it over rice and accompanied it with a spinach/grapefruit/ strawberry salad, dressed with vinaigrette and garnished with pistachios and dried cherries.

Dessert was The Ultimate Chocolate Cake (See THIS POST)
and coconut ice cream.

We will be in penitential eating mode for the foreseeable future. . .

Again . . .