practising

woe is humphrey, a hound beset on all sides. for when he wants more to eat, he is denied. and when he wants to chase cats, he is most cruelly restrained. he has to walk across the scary floor (oh the horror) and he has almost nibbled all the fur off of his favourite stuffed toy duck and what will he do then???

and now, just when things are at their bleakest, i have (re)taken up my trombone. 

humph has a scale of complaint. he begins with the look. head tilted down, he stares reproachfully at the offending instrument. when this doesn't work, he paces around the room, baleful glances from the side of his eyes. he then flops down on his bed, sighing meaningfully. the noise continues. at every break, he alternates between stares, glares, sighs, and eventually, full-on HUFFS. at least he doesn't howl (yet), like n's childhood dog, who howled whenever someone practised the piano. 

and to think, when humph first came to live with us, i wondered how we would ever communicate! that dog is eloquent, i'll give him that.

i also came across this poem this week, which i think i should probably print out and paste up somewhere and read it every day -  

Anne Sexton, “Admonitions to a Special Person”

Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.

i had not heard of Anne Sexton before, thus is my shameful lack of poetry knowledge, but i read the poem on a site i am increasingly loving - Insatiable Booksluts . go - read - and lose an entire morning where you are supposed to be writing a building disposal report but end up spending far more than your disposable income on kindle books instead. it's probably better for you anyways.