Image gallery: eating in a hat
Buildings shaped like what they sell are known as “ducks.” Usually they sold simple foods rather than
entire meals. They were often located on
busy roads where it wasn’t easy to get cars to stop. But proprietors realized that even the most
humble shed, if masquerading as a giant dog or coffee pot, just might get speeding
motorists to stop for closer examination.
Ducks, which became popular in the 1930s, could be found all over the
country but their birthplace is usually cited as Southern California, the land
of fantasy and car culture. The slogan
“eat in the hat” was, in fact, created in Los Angeles for the Brown Derby
restaurant that opened in 1926 on Wilshire Blvd. To be considered a genuine duck, the Brown
Derby should have been selling hats, but it was a restaurant, and one with a
standard menu rather than just grab-and-go food. Its fame derived from its successful
courtship of gossip columnists and film stars. Jan Whitaker
copyright 2017 See picture of the
original Brown Derby Restaurant a few years after it enlarged and added a patio
at https://restaurant-ingthroughhistory.com/
National Geographic
Magazine/Volume 31/Number 6/Our State
Flowers/List of Illustrations Paintings
by Mary E. Eaton I typed ctrl f, Ohio--and found Ohio (red carnation) and Delaware (peach
blossom) in one painting. Iowa's state
flower is the low or pasture rose. https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/National_Geographic_Magazine/Volume_31/Number_6/Our_State_Flowers/List_of_Illustrations
Mary Emily Eaton was born November 27, 1873, in Coleford, Gloucestershire. She attended private schools in London, and
received formal tuition in art at the Taunton School of Art, also
attending classes at the Royal College of Art in South
Kensington, and the Chelsea Polytechnic. She worked for a time as a painter of Worcester porcelain, before going to Jamaica in
1909 to visit her siblings. During her two-years stay, she began painting
detailed studies of butterflies and moths.
In June 1911 Eaton left for New
York City, where she would remain until January 1932, employed by The New York Botanical Garden.
Among other duties, she was the principal illustrator for the Botanical
Garden's journal Addisonia, painting over three-quarters of the
800 plates. She was the principal
illustrator for Britton & Rose's monumental work The
Cactaceae, and her illustrations also appeared in the National Geographic Magazine. Contemporary authorities rated her work very
highly, one source calling her "the greatest of living wildflower painters"
and another stating that one could not fully appreciate her talent from the
sometimes mediocre reproductions of her work in Addisonia and other
publications. She was awarded the
silver-gilt Grenfell Medal of the Royal Horticultural Society twice,
first in 1922 and again in 1950. In
1932, due to the Great Depression, Eaton lost her position at the
Botanic Garden, after which she struggled to find enough work in America. In 1947, she returned to England, where she
died on August 4, 1961, in Cossington, Somerset. Many of her paintings are at the British Museum of Natural History. The Hunt Institute for Botanical Documentation
also has a number of her works. Six
hundred of her watercolours are part of the permanent collections of the National Geographic Society, The New York Botanical Garden, and
the Smithsonian Institution. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Emily_Eaton See also https://www.asba-art.org/article/botanica-collected-mary-emily-eaton
Homophones (literally
"same sound") are usually defined as words that share the same
pronunciation, regardless of how they are spelled. If they are spelled the same then they are
also homographs (and homonyms); if they are spelled differently then they are
also heterographs (literally "different writing"). http://www.homophone.com/h/champagne-champaign
March 27, 2018 Goroke, Victoria,
a former stagecoach stop in southeastern Australia, pop. 200, is not the sort
of place you would expect to host a daylong academic symposium. About five hours from Melbourne by car, the
town has the feel of an evacuation nearly complete. But last December, about 40 scholars,
critics, editors and general readers made the journey for a series of lectures
on the work of Gerald Murnane. The author, who has lived in Goroke for the
last decade, prefers not to travel, and he had suggested the scholars convene
at the local golf club, where he plays a weekly game and also regularly tends
bar. A strong case could be made for
Murnane, who recently turned 79, as the greatest living English-language writer
most people have never heard of. Even in
his home country, he remains a cult figure; in 1999, when he won the Patrick
White Award for underrecognized Australian writers, all his books were out of
print. Yet his work has been praised by
J.M. Coetzee and Shirley Hazzard, as well as young American writers like Ben
Lerner and Joshua Cohen. Teju Cole has
described Murnane as “a genius” and a “worthy heir to Beckett.” Last year, Ladbrokes placed his odds at
winning the Nobel Prize for Literature at 50 to 1—better than Cormac McCarthy,
Salman Rushdie and Elena Ferrante. Next
year, to coincide with his 80th birthday, Murnane will publish a book of poetry
and outtakes from a previous novel. But
other than the poems, composed in Goroke over the last few years, Murnane says
he has retired once again. Gingerly, I
prodded Murnane. All his books had been
so deeply personal, but also something any reader could enter into. But with the Antipodean Archive, Murnane had
created countries where only he could travel.
Did he harbor any second thoughts about diverting so much of his creativity
into such a private pursuit? Murnane
smiled. He could see another connection
forming. From one of his cabinets, he
retrieved a typewritten manuscript page from his poetry collection. Read it, he instructed. That’s where we’d stop. The poem, after explaining the archive over
many lines, “the perfect summation/of my lifelong belief in the sport of
horse-racing/as a better source of inspiration/than opera, theater, film, you
name it,” ended like this: Reader, if
you’re urged to learn more about this imagined world, outlive me and my
siblings and visit the library where my archives end up. You’ll find there a filing cabinet full of
the sort of detail that I wanted to include in this poem but failed. You’ll read thousands of pages, though you’ll
never see, unfortunately, what they revealed to me. Mark
Binelli Read extensive article at https://www.nytimes.com/.../gerald-murnane-next-nobel-laureate-literature-australia.html See also The Still-Breathing Author by Gerald Murnane at https://sydneyreviewofbooks.com/the-still-breathing-author-gerald-murnane/
Champagne is a sparkling wine made from grapes grown in the Champagne region of France. Champaign was a 1980s American R&B
band. Champaign, Illinois was originally called "West Urbana",
the name is derived from Champaign County.
The song "Champaign, Illinois" was written by Carl Perkins and Bob Dylan.
Indignation is used to deflect further
discussion or criticism of a topic. Changing the subject abruptly deflects
further discussion. Calling people names deflects serious discussions. Comparing
unlike subjects causes confusion.
Tomato Pudding had been a staple at the Tally Ho, a
tearoom at 133 22nd Street in Toledo, Ohio.
The key, apparently, to duplicating this “treasured Toledo dish” is to
follow the measurements and directions exactly.
The recipe came from turncoat Carrie Wall, who made the pudding many
years at the Tally Ho before defecting to the Gladieux Corp. Find recipe at https://www.toledohistorybox.com/2012/07/25/tomato-pudding-a-toledo-original/
The last Blue Moon of 2018 is just around the corner. If you miss it, you'll have to wait to 2020
for the next one. The upcoming Blue Moon—the name given to the second
full moon to occur in a single calendar month—rises on Saturday (March 31). Blue Moons aren't
actually blue, and they don't look different from any other full moon in the
sky. The term, which has been around for
hundreds of years, apparently originally signified something that's absurd, but
then shifted over time to refer to exceedingly rare events, Philip Hiscock
wrote in a 2012 article for Sky & Telescope. (Interestingly, a Blue Moon previously meant
the third full moon in a season that had four of them. This sense of an
"extra" full moon morphed into the definition most people recognize today. Language is a slippery and changeable thing!) But Blue Moons aren't all
that rare, really: On average, they
occur about once every 2.7 years. Blue
Moons are possible because it takes Earth's nearest neighbor 29.5 days to
circle our planet, but each calendar month (except February) contains 30 or 31
days. Mike
Wall https://www.space.com/40134-blue-moon-2018-last-one-until-2020.html
Kindness is always fashionable. - Amelia Barr, novelist (29 Mar 1831-1919)
Word of the Day clerihew
noun A humorous rhyme of
four lines with
the rhyming scheme AABB, usually regarding a person mentioned
in the first line. English humourist and
novelist Edmund Clerihew Bentley, who invented
the clerihew, died on March 30, 1956.
Wiktionary Find clerihew examples
at http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/clerihew.html
http://librariansmuse.blogspot.com Issue 1866
March 30, 2018