A cryptic order
lying beneath the heterogeneous stuff of the world; one which, when divined, might reveal a kind of harmony that unifies the wildly sundry nature of things
June 14, 2011
a new way to de-junk junk….to seek a living harmony from detritus of..and…
June 11, 2011
name that now 50 year dead Dutch Dolly..forgive me Fweetee
It seems that it was his mother Grace’s habit to dress him, as a child, in long white frocks and fashion his hair like a little girl’s. It was a 19th-century custom to dress infants alike, but she took it to extremes. She referred to him, in his cute lacy dress, as “Dutch dolly”. She said she was his Sweetie, or, as he pronounced it, “Fweetee”. Once, when Ernest was two, Grace called him a doll once too often. He replied, “I not a Dutch dolly… Bang, I shoot Fweetee”.