July 6th, 2004

little review

Poem for Tuesday

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Some Langston Hughes, because I am still in an Independence Day/Civil War Museum mood. Also because right now America isn't America to anyone, at home or abroad, and it's very sad.

violet_quill made this offer for World Blog Haiku Day to write HP haiku. I asked for Severus. She gave me his...well, go read it. *giggling*

My in-laws have an unfortunate habit of deciding they must call the relatives whenever we are visiting (meaning the kids are usually going to bed much later than normal to begin with). So by the time the kids have been gotten into bed, and I could finally dial in to AOL, they are invariably on the phone line for more than an hour. On the one hand I feel that it is petty of me to wish they let me use the damn line, but on the other hand, when we are guests, if they are going to spend all evening on the phone with various other relatives anyway, why in hell would it matter if I was on the computer?

Well, I did get lots of reading done (Jack panicking about Stephen in the diving bell squeeee) and most of an edit of Lupin/Snape Part Four. Heh. We're doing various things around Hanover tomorrow, including seeing the fire brigade, esteven, so I am posting this in the wee hours. More much later!
little review

Fire Brigade

Today we went to the Hanover Fire Museum, a place it would probably never have occurred to me to visit had esteven not expressed interest because she was familiar with the fire museum in the city for which Hanover is named -- Hannover, Germany. The museum is currently housed within the city's main fire station while a new building is being prepared for it, at which point some of the big retired trucks that have been sent away may return.

We got there while the curator, a fireman on disability leave, was out, so we got a bonus tour of the station itself, the first time I've taken one since I was a child and the first time my kids have ever taken one, funnily enough. It was given by a knowledgeable and enthusiastic lieutenant who took us through the entire place -- the bunk room, the game room (with video games; my kids wanted to know if they were allowed to get to a save point before they had to throw on gear and jump down the poles), and the various rooms housing the electronics and equipment, plus the garage with several trucks and two ambulances. Then the curator arrived, and proved to be a firehouse buff roughly at the level of a serious Trekkie in terms of fannishness; he knew the entire history of firefighting in that area of Pennsylvania and had lots of stories about visiting other fire stations, including some of the ones in New York that lost a lot of people on 9/11.

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Also, since I am posting for esteven and I know she will appreciate it, I came across this in Treason's Harbour, page 245: "Stephen watched Wray when the young man of the house, a beautiful youth with caressing ways, brought them their drinks, their cigars, their lights, and then unnecessary lights again, and it occurred to him that [Wray] was probably a paederast, or at least one who, like Horace, might burn for either sex. This aroused no virtuous indignation in Stephen; no indignation of any kind. He loved Horace, and, having the usual tolerant Mediterranean attitude, he had loved many another man with the same eclectic inclinations." Is it just me or is that last clause damnably vague -- is it not all too easy to assume "love" is an active verb here, and that the dangling phrase at the end might be attributing the inclinations to Stephen himself?