Category: Uncategorized

Lilian Stannard: A Cottage Garden (o.J.)

Hungerlyrik

Form? Das sind keine Verse mehr,
Das sind verletzte Vögel,
Die am Boden liegen,
Flattern hilflos wild umher,
Werden nie mehr fliegen.

Inhalt? Gedankenfetzen nur,
Die schreien und beschreiben,
Was ins Auge schneidet
Grell von außen, Reimkultur,
Die am Nachbild leidet.

Der Sommer stirbt schon wieder,
Erste Blätter fallen von den Bäumen,
So ist es auch mit Segnungen und Träumen,
Die sterben alle weg.

Wenige Gärten sind:
Still und schön, da blüht der Tag noch länger,
Die Rosen duften über den Zaun
Mit gelben Lilien, Lavendel und Rosmarin,
Dort zieht‘s mich immer hin.

Dem Abend folgt ein trüber Morgen,
Was gestern leuchtete, ist heute tot;
Früh ging der Schnitter aus dem Hause,
Nun macht er kurz Pause, trinkt Wasser
Und isst sein trockenes Brot.

Der Parkplatz haut mir seine hässliche Größe ins Gesicht,
Die Neubausiedlung grüßt mich mit steriler Einfalt,
Das Windrad dreht…

Is feeling lonely as an autistic any different than the neurotypical experience?

It is the height of summer in northern Michigan here in the USA. Yesterday was the 4th of July, and it is a huge birthday party for the country all over. There are traditional get togethers, family camp outs, cook outs, beach parties, boating parties, baseball games, volleyball games, sand castle building, swimming, and loads of other summer activities, followed by huge displays of fireworks in every city. small or large.

We have a small home in a small community on Lake Huron. We live only 2 blocks from a public park with a beach. The park is the location of the “official” city fireworks, so very early in the day people begin to gather in the park. by noon, the side streets in this are are filled with cars of people going to the park.

My husband…

I’ve had this book by my favourite English food writer (SH) on the shelves for years and opened it for the first time at breakfast the other day. A homage to the food they were brought up on, it got me thinking about a dinner we hosted on Saturday night. We decided to go for a seventies vibe. Chicken vol-au-vents for a starter. Then boeuf au daube – I used the Reader’s Digest cookbook for this, published early seventies, so it’s exactly the right vintage – and we had potato gratin (Stephanie Alexander’s) on the side. Caprice brought apple crumble for dessert and Sheila brought a seventies cheese platter. Jatz crackers, of course, none of this lavosh crackers with olive oil and rosemary, no siree. And a nice touch was an orange into which she’d poked a lot of toothpicks, each of which was headed by a teensy pickled onion…