Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
And the Beaver, excited at last,
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
For the daylight was nearly past.
"There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said.
"He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
He has certainly found a Snark!"
They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
"He was always a desperate wag!"
They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed--
On the top of a neighbouring crag,
Erect and sublime, for one moment of time,
In the next, that wild figure they saw
(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
While they waited and listened in awe.
"It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
Then the ominous words "It's a Boo--"
Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
That sounded like "--jum!" but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.
They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not a button, or feather, or mark,
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
In the midst of the word he was trying to say
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished away--
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
STAR HOARDS: Which celebrities collect old tennis balls, typewriters, butterflies, pigs, thimbles, comics, coat hangers... and pigeon skeletons? A ROUND-UP OF THE ODD ITEMS IN A-LIST LOFTS. . .
YOU wouldn't guess he has a weird hobby, but Hollywood superstar Tom Hanks is an obsessive collector of vintage TYPEWRITERS. The Forest Gump star revealed his secret passion on the Jonathan Ross show last week. He scours the internet for rare examples and chats to other collectors on typewriter web sites. But he's not the only star who hoards odd items. RACHAEL BLETCHLY unearthed some strange celebrity passions...
JOSE CARRERAS: Thimbles
SPANISH opera giant Jose has a huge collection of rare thimbles - which cost a lot more than three tenners.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
1 15-oz. can white kidney beans, rinse and drain.
½ c. chicken broth
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 Tblsp. olive oil
2 c. tomatoes, chopped up in chunks
12 oz. cooked chicken, pulled into bite-size chunks
¼ c. fresh flat-leaf parsley, torn or snipped
Salt and pepper to taste
Don't go nuts about exact measurements.
- Cook pasta (follow directions on package); drain; set aside.
- In blender, purée 3/4 cup of the white kidney beans with the chicken broth. Put purée into pan and bring to boiling. Add set-aside pasta.
- In a large skillet, sauté garlic in olive oil for 1 minute. Add tomatoes; cook an additional minute. Add rest of beans , chicken, parsley, salt and pepper. Heat through, but don't mash up.
- Add the garlic/tomato mixture to hot pasta; toss to coat. Makes about four servings.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The Thimble: An Heroi-comical Poem, in Four Cantos
by William Hawkins
Friday, January 11, 2008
My petulant little points:
First: Hooray for anything referencing thimbles. Sincerely. Genuinely. YAY!!
Second: I have been trying to figure out what they do with these thimbles in pigeon racing. I've read the Wikipedia article and apparently they have something to do with timing the dear, little birdies, which have some sort of numbered bands put around their legs from when they're pretty much fresh from the egg. I think that when the pigeon arrives at its little pigeon-home-nest-place, pooped from the long flight, its owner (human pigeon-companion, if you will) removes the band and pops it into the thimble-thingy which goes into the pigeon racing clock. Again, I think that's what happens, but I could be entirely wrong (it's happened before). This must be so intuitively obvious to fans of this. . . uh. . . sport. . . that they feel no need to explain it, but I'm dipped if I'm clear on the concept. Seems like one could cheat.
Oh! There are Pigeon Clock Collectors groups and societies! YAY!
I wonder if they have to hear, "You collect what?," all the time too.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
15 January 2008