Here’s my stargazing schedule for the coming month:
February 3rd: the gibbous moon will pass north of the Pleiades, eclipsing (well, the real term is occulting) some of the brightest stars. The dark side of the moon will cover the stars first, and then they will reappear from the moon’s bright side. Pretty cool.
February 9th: the full moon, called the Snow Moon. On that same night, there’ll be a penumbral lunar eclipse, which means the moon will pass through the edge of the Earth’s shadow. Truth be told, you won’t really see anything, but why not watch and imagine?
February 24th: Comet Lulin, a unique two-tailed comet, will reach its peak of brightness. Lulin was discovered in July 2007, and is named for the Lu-lin Observatory on Mt. Front Lu-Lin in Taiwan.
February 27th: the crescent moon and the bright planet Venus will be only a degree and a half apart. I am going to try to take a picture of this. I managed a fair picture of the “sad face” moon-Venus-Jupiter conjunction on December 2nd:
The crescent of the moon is a little blurry, but as the Broadcasting Legend™ says, 252,000 miles is a pretty long focal length for our little backyard camera. One day I’m going to buy the adapters and gadgets I need to attach the camera to my telescope. Although I don’t really want my stargazing to get too professional. What I love about it the most is the mystery and the history—the sense of millenia of people looking up at the sky and seeing the same things.
I am going on adventures with Flat Stanley for a very special little girl (you know who you are). Last night we had one of our every-few-years-whether-we-need-them-or-not ice storms, and so of course Flat Stanley had to go out and explore. He found a mass of tiger lily plants with their leaves curled up like tangles of green-and-gold ribbons, spangled with ice.
Fortunately the sun is out and the ice is melting. I’m going to have popcorn for lunch and think up more fun things for Flat Stanley to do. Any ideas?
The temperature’s just at freezing and dropping, and it’s spitting rain. The doggies come in with little semi-solid icy beads on their coats. They do not approve. Neither do I.
A good day to stay inside, drink coffee, and write. I’ve had a couple of crazy-ish days (crazy in a good way, which I’ll expand on, I hope, in a few days) and I need some time to be alone and sink into the past.
The other night I saw the last scene of my book in a dream. No, really. It was bizarre. I wasn’t acting as one of the characters—I was just hanging in space, observing. (Although come to think of it, I may indeed have been acting as one of the characters.) It was more or less like the ending I’d written, but not quite.
The truly startling thing is that I remembered it, word for word, when I woke up. I wrote it down right away (I keep a flashlight, pencil and notebook beside my bed, having lost far too many middle-of-the-night ideas and dream revelations in the past) and in the morning rewrote the end of the book. The changes are small but, for me, important.
Anybody else dream parts of their writing?
Yesterday I posted a recipe I used to bake chicken in the here and now. Just for fun, here’s a recipe the cooks in Barbara’s kitchen might have used for a somewhat similar dish.
Take parcelly, Sauge, Isoppe, Rose Mary, and tyme, and breke hit bitwen thi hondes, and stoppe the Capon there-with;
Colour hym with Safferon, and couche him in a erthen potte, or of brasse, and ley splentes underneth and al about the sides, that the Capon touche no thinge of the potte;
Strawe good herbes in the potte, and put thereto a pottel of the best wyn that thou may gete, and none other licour; hele the potte with a close led, and stoppe hit aboute with dogh or bater, that no eier come oute;
And set hit on the faire charcole, and lete it seeth easly and longe till hit be ynowe.
And if hit be an erthen potte, then set hit on the fire whan thou takest hit downe, and lete hit not touche the grounde for breking;
And whan the hete is ouer past, take oute the Capon with a prik;
Then make a sirippe of wyne, Reysons of corance, sugur and safferon, And boile hit a litull; medel pouder of Ginger with a litul of the same wyn, and do thereto;
Then do awey the fatte of the sewe of the Capon, And do the Siryppe to the sewe, and powre hit on the capon, and serue it forth.
I love the language. “Couch him in an earthen pot.” “The best wine that thou may get.” This actually sounds pretty good, once one puzzles out the directions.
Recipe for “Capons Stwed” courtesy Cariadoc’s Miscellany.