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That backpack could be saying “I’m about to trek through the jungle for a Louis Vuitton photoshoot” but it could also be “could I get my cappuccino with oat milk and the WiFi password?”

MY NEW FAVORITE BLOG - it has Trek, it has Teh Funnay, it has the subtle joy of yaaaassss-queenisms. It has Picard. It even has the click beyond.

Beautiful photography in Appalachian Ohio. It's not the part of Ohio where I spent so much of my life. It's not where my dad came from either. But Ohio means a lot to me; and some of these are still and perfect and small and exquisite.

How have I never heard of Sapphire and Steel before? Terribly intrigued. DVRing some episodes, I'll report back if it's fantastic.

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Dunking doughnuts outside the 54th floor, Louis and Mrs. Armstrong at the Sphinx, a woman neck-deep in grapes, Malyshka the Russian Space Dog of Sputnik II ... oh and so indescribably MUCH more. Photos from The Atlantic's amazing archive.

In fuzzy-history-we-think-we-know: did you realize that the Equal Rights Amendment passed forty-six years ago, almost to the month? But it has never been ratified. Yes, ladies - and women too - there is still a deficit of two states' ayes to enforce what even CONGRESS was able to say yes to, way on back in 1972. More than a quarter of states in the theoretically United States still don't care to accept the amendment, two generations on. I am not proud to note my home state remains a holdout.

Tom Williams has a good post, reviewing New Grub Street by George Gissing. As interesting as the work looks, one of Tom's points is meta - that the work contains the flaws it rails against. He also points out that the complaints of the fictional author in New Grub Street are still with us today. To take this one more layer of meta, this morning before I saw his post, I happened to get up and turn on The Loves of Edgar Allen Poe as my background to waking up and getting ready. I was fascinated by its repeated commentary on a writer's raw deal in publishing, out of the Poe character's mouth, and got curious about the world of publishing circa, say 1941 or 1942 (the movie came out in 1942). Little is to be found about Brian Foy, who wrote the screenplay, in a cursory search, but he seems to have started life as a child entertainer before becoming a writer - easy to imagine he was exploited in more than one way in his given professions. I leave the link to Tom's post with only the observation that there is either hope or despair in knowing that it's never been easy in publishing.

Tom has another post of interest - short, beautiful, and poignant - about the Palace of Peace, the elite, and rumors of war. Sigh.

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If I have learned nothing else from my regular blog rounds, it is that The Duchess of Richmond's ball is worthy of our attention this week; here, at one post from Two Nerdy History Girls, and then an excerpt from Burke at Waterloo, at Tom Williams' blog, Writing about Writing. As famous balls go, there is perhaps some irony in this piece of history taking precedence over the very last link you will see below ...

Ahem.

My fellow Reiders may be the best-informed target audience for this point in today's collection post, but anyone who clicks will get the point. Because Colin Smith's latest post has a photo at the top which keeps not-completely-failing to remind me a little of Brian Schwartz - whom I hope will not find the comparison insulting; it is not meant to be. :) This has been making my usual blog rounds double-take-stuf for a few days now, so I had to share it and spread the deja vu.

American Duchess takes a look at the question: to silk, or not to silk? In defense of faux silks - and a trip to Colonial Williamsburg.

Jeff Sypeck is taking an interesting look at the de-scholarization of our times; something I've looked at recently myself, but his post is much more specific, concrete, is SOURCED, and far more intelligent than (snarky) mine!

[I]ntentions still matter: there’s more pleasure and solace in writing and art when you believe what you’re doing is true.

When random conversations with your mother become fruitful: last week, I heard something on NPR on my way home from work, and I thought "that is NEAT, I want to blog about that" - and, of course, promptly forgot what the heck the story was. Welp, thanks to mom, we can now have our first Trek reference here in some time now. Ladies and germs, I give you: The SOLAR SAIL! (And - count 'em: three, three, THREE stories for your edification!) Which is so much like a certain DS9 episode I can't contain my geekly glee. (For those as obsessed as I - this is the one where Sisko brings on the beard AND just about the first bromantic scene between O'Brien and Bashir. "Hammock time!")

Clovis may be lying fallow at my house, but (with inevitable thanks once again to The History Blog) the Merovingians' world is alive in archaeology. Take a look at a wine-jug the like of which might have graced his table (though found in Denmark, actually). Mmm, turntable pottery! Dig it! Link comes complete with a pic of an actual archaeologist in an actual archaeologist's hat. Bonus.

The HB takes us also on a tour of preserved tattoos - an article not for the squeamish, though the only really surprising picture included is the full-frontal one at the very bottom, of a fella wearing nothing but his ink. To me, the taxonomy of tattoos - or "speaking scars" which is a pretty evocative subset of the kind - is extremely interesting. There's even one (19th century!) that looks a tad like Bettie Page. Huh!

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Leila Gaskin airs her psychological underwear!

The HB tells us who might be hiding in (... well, under) Picasso's Blue Room.

At the Rags of Time, we consider exactly when the ruff "fell" out of style, and take a look at many styles *of* ruff.  I like the cabbage ruff, myself.  Voluminous, overstated, irregular - it's everything a ruff should be!

Finally, some ecstatically gorgeous photography - get addicted to this Tumblr, the images are varied, striking, and extraordinarily beautiful.

Image totally cadged without permission
Let the owner come kick my tuckus

Shining Moment

There is a photo on my cubicle wall at work, of some of the finest photographic composition I’ve ever seen – color, motion, subjects … and an ineffable *presence* in a moment – better captured than 99.9% of all images I’ve ever seen, professional or candid.

It is of two girls, one small and pale, with a shock of bright hair; the other a little older, face joyous in a paroxysm of laughter.  They are holding each other, the bigger sister leaning sideways and the younger turned toward the older, one hand delicately on the other’s arm, her other tangled in a mass of curls, planting a firm kiss on the big girl’s cheek.  Knowing these girls as I do, the sight of this image gives me very real, personal joy – but even a stranger would be hard put not to smile at the photo.  It is boldly lovely, filled with glee, and features the best parts of humanity, affection and laughter.

It was taken almost three years ago, and it was only a couple of months ago I learned the secret, the suffusion of giggles I can *hear* when I see this picture.

The little one had just farted – and was holding on to her sister, to prevent any escape.



For me, this does nothing to dent the feelings the photo inspires.  Knowing these two as I do, being able to hear their gulping, awkward breaths, the younger one’s high. strong cackle and the older one’s horror in amusement, her resisting laugh – knowing she was TRAPPED, but okay with that – knowing who taught them their gleefully improper joy in harmless infractions against normality … my smile only settles more deeply.  I can think of how far back in the generations this kind of giggling response to a little subversion goes.  In my family, the phrase “Oh my LAAAAANDS” is connected to a similarly not-at-all-guilty(-but-a-little-maybe-furtive) chortling smile.  This laughter beats in our veins.

Little Red has, I think, always been fearless, always been a little evil in the way most of the people I love seem to enjoy the most.  Her big sister is has this edge too, but the one I called “monster baby” almost from the time she was born at all may be more the evil-humor showman.  (May be ....)  She once asked the Mass of Curls to sing a song for her, and when big sister demurred, she said, “Good” – a taut riposte from a wit nimble even at a very young age.  Who needs sour grapes when your sense of timing is perfect and you have the funniest/meanest response handy?

Mass of Curls, for her part, could give “dry” and “wry” a run for their money, and go far toward wearing out out their utility.  She’s owned me outright for every minute of her XYZ-number of years, and I find myself frankly honored if she ever laughs at a word I say, or enjoys a moment of time spent with me.  As amazed as I am when I look at the remarkable people generous enough to love me or call my friend – when these girls love me even for a moment, it grips me at my very core.

I witness these two lives, even from afar, with absolute fascination and no small amount of glee of my own.

I may not have been there for the fart a few years ago.  But I can share in elder sister’s entrapment and giggles, even beyond that moment’s fleeting experience.

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Disorderliness in the soil, or sweet entropy ...

Fight or Flight in the Office … ?  This isn’t supposed to be a blog about work, but it’s often about people and our interrelation, and certainly about science and our behavior.  And so we include this link, which I found both vindicating (everybody in every cube farm knows of these facts, and some of my former colleagues in outright open-plan farms double-know them) and fascinating.  We all know what bugs us, but sometimes it’s good to see these things quantified.  Not that this leads us to much hope for change …

The Pronunciation of Smaug.  Need I comment?  (No.)

Beauty in terrible condition, from the Passion of Former Days photography blog.  There is perhaps as much fascination in the decay of artifacts as in artifacts themselves.

An unexpected peek into the (English) historical perpsective on same-sex marriage - yet another of those ideas/issues humanity didn't wait until the twentieth century to consider.  Courtesy of History Extra - which, while you're considering the link above, also has this piece on homosexuality during WWII.  "Lashes and slap" indeed - and that may not mean what you think.  (Then again, maybe it does.)

For those who admired the gorgeous needle work post (a beautiful video, worth revisiting), English History Authors bring us a new look at Stuart period needlework pieces, with a bit of the history of the stumpwork style - truly wonderful photos at the click-through.

Finally, the proportions (and omissions, yes) given to history and culture are a fascinating study in themselves, in this piece.  This link comes courtesy of Cute Shoes, who sent it to me ages ago and I've only just gotten around to finally watching it.  The images chosen speak to their editor, but they are just as vividly communicative to us.  It's an interesting piece, so I'm including it here (but the link above, should you have the framing issues I know vids come with on this page for some browsers, will take you to a nice copy as well).