delayed gratification

 

Tove Jansson*

Dear Y'all,

I have two things, from beloved author Tove Jansson for you.  I will send you the next one soon.  I want to spread out the loveliness, to make it last.

Making it last is why- when I first started reading her books, the three volume edition of Moomin comics that the library acquired 15 years ago or so, and then the wonderful Moomin books, and then, then the amazing books for whatever an "adult" is-  I did not rush to finish all her books in 1 or 2 years.  I was very sad to have read the last (as in, the only one I hadn't read yet) Moomintroll book, so I have to take care not to read what is left too quickly!  

I am not sure exactly how many are left to me now; I have for certain, two on my shelf, and one that I know of but do not have.  I guess, if there are say 5 more, and I live another 25 years I should read one every five years?  Ah, but even as I write that to you, I see the flaw: what about the unexpected early death!??  What about missing out entirely on the few that are left??  Well, this is the rush and roar of our gambling, gamboling lives, isn't it?  Here today and 5 books unread tomorrow!  Still, I don't want to be one of these manic over achievers, so, maybe I will read just the two books I have before the end of the year.

But, I digress:  Here is Tove Jansson from Sun City, & yes, you should run (but be careful of that bus when you cross the street!) to your library or bookshop so you can read the whole delicious thing.

There has to be time to think, thought Mrs. Morris, an opportunity to reflect.  The time that writing requires, a mute communication, would leave space for deliberation.  Almost everything we say is marked by haste and thoughtlessness, habit, fear, and the need to impress one another.  So much needless triviality, exaggeration, and repetition, so many terrible misunderstandings.

PS  

Do you suppose that I am only pacing myself like this because I want to feel superior in my emotionally intelligent plan for delayed gratification?  C'est possible.

*  I don't need to tell you that you want (desire deeply) to read a book by a woman that looks like this!

Lynx Boa (Self Portrait), 1974, Tove Jansson.

(See also, related:  Dodo: 4/28/2025)

O black day

O black day.

They have killed my white horse, my pony boy.

Right now, which will be 'then' by the time you read this,
I can see the hole growing larger and larger, behind the cottonwood tree.

The backhoe pivots, leans down and curves itself full,
pivots again, and a rain of earth falls.

The sheriff came about a week ago, but my pony boy said nothing to the deputy;
who stood, near his truck, with his black boot on the white rail of the fence;
while the white horse stayed in the middle of his corner of the world.

I saw them this morning.  They entered, two of them, they hesitated; my pony boy stood
in the center of his field, as he has for 10, 15, 20 years; and then they walked up and put on a
halter.   

There he goes now.  They have lain him on a flatbed trailer, and they are driving him,
in state, over the field, towards the stream, to the hole. 

O black day.