renaissance people

Have successfully done both laundry and reading.
I borrowed Sir Philip Sidney, Courtier Poet by Katherine Duncan-Jones. Teacher recommended.
So far I have read the first chapter and skimmed the second, and so far I have found two things that contradict at least in part what we were told out loud in class.

The first chapter is interesting because it's all about women. ( Read more... )

I don't understand the guy who was complaining about how we don't need all this history to understand the poems. The more you read about what was happening at the time, families that were mostly young girls who kept dying as children, the only male heir being a nephew or cousin or someone who married in, people being widowed and remarrying so much, disease leaving permanent and very visible scars, family quarrels about who dumped who when that turn into massive political weights that shove history around, the more you realise all this is woven in to the poetry like the long strong threads. Sure, the pretty patterns are words on a page, we can see those, but it's the stuff holding it all together that tells us why it mattered. How much more threatening an adulterous passion when large units of politics and economy are bound up in the people involved? And how much of a barrier would marriage truly seem when death was so present? It all adds depth.

It's quite frustrating being both interested and dozing off over the book.

But hey, sink unblocked, cleaner did the magic, laundry got done, reading got done, Wednesday jobs achieved. I can fall asleep again if I wants to.
... which really yes.

I heard sleep was recommended for humans

I went to get some more sleep. This seemed like a good idea at the time. Sleepy, go rest.

I dreamed that I was at a party and someone gave me vodka mixer drinks and, for some reason, I thought 'why not' and drank actual article (wake up feeling icky just from that)
but then something smashed and glass fell on my leg and to start with I was just 'huh, need a first aid kit' but I pulled the tiny bit of glass out and a huge long chunky bit gradually emerged and I was 'arrgh!' and yelling for help, and trying to keep pressure on a wound that was now making blood go everywhere, and some hotel staff came over... and started serving people drinks and pouring drinks on me, because that's totally helpful. So I was yelling something about medical help now, which wasn't happening. And the blood kept seeping through whatever bit of cloth I put on it, and the cut looked all ugly and gaping and really creepy, and everyone was being completely and utterly useless so I was left hopping and limping through the hotel, trying to reach the front desk to phone an ambulance, and whenever I met something I'd yell about a medical emergency but they'd just kind of look at my leg and go back to their conversation, and then I finally got to the front area and there was an ambulance there! ... and they were treating someone else for a scalp wound. And I passed out.

Or, on account of being asleep, woke up. Really pissed off. Well, shaky and pissed off.

So clearly that was restful and helpful and all that good stuff.

*headdesk*