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20 days ago
Catapult | How to Live Without Ecstasy Every Day | Laura Goode
I never imagined the actual result of becoming a mother: that I would find having children both emotionally captivating and intellectually fascinating. With children, the era of chasing ecstasy definitively passed. But what replaced it was an era of tenderness, of contentment, of joy.

...

Not missing anything, I would realize, also means paying attention: Caring for a tiny baby demands a presence I had never known. There is no airlifting off the ground, no ambling off with new friends for twenty-four hours; the only blunting of lucidity is that which comes from sleep deprivation. Somehow, in the long, blurred-together days of living with a newborn, boredom and hypervigilance manage to coexist: A new mother is always guarding against any threat to the baby, but often with full hands and an under-occupied mind.
parenting  poetry  joy 
29 days ago
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod by Eugene Field - Poems | poets.org
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
Eugene Field
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea.
“Now cast your nets wherever you wish,—
Never afraid are we!”
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,—
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home:
‘Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought ‘twas a dream they’d dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:—
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
poem  kids  literature 
4 weeks ago
Gomae dressing from Salt Fat Acid Heat
1/2c tahini
1/4 c seasoned rice wine vinegar
1clove garlic
2tsp soy sauce
few drops sesame oil
1tsp mirin
2-4 T ice water

Whisk all together.
recipes  food  from notes
6 weeks ago
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