We’ve heard the Sirens’ song, and got tickets! We’ll be seeing the NY Sirens of The Professional Women’s Hockey League take on the Minnesota Frost at the Prudential Center in Newark. It will be my birthday eve celebration. You remember Eve, right? We have good seats and I think I will be able to access the tix on my phone, after bumbling around for about 30 minutes last night.
We met the beautiful Siren Sarah Fillier yesterday. Say hi today to another knockout on the roster: Brooke Hobson. Brooke is Saskatchewan, and learned to skate at the age of 3. You’ll find her on defense. Don’t let the sweet smile fool you. If you try to get by her with a puck, she will knock your teeth out with that stick without a moment’s hesitation. Hobson’s choice for college was Northeastern, where she majored in Psych.
I think I located another Jew on the roster too! Gabby Rosenthal. Has to be, right? Born in Minny; college at Ohio State (boo!). Here’s Gabby:
Guess what The Writer’s Almanac threw our way today? — a puzzle by Sally Bliumis-Dunn called “Crossword.”
The white and black squares
promise order
in the morning mess
of mulling over
the latest political morass,
what’s on sale at Kohl’s,
the book review.
Each letter, shared,
which lifts away
some sheen of loneliness I
can’t quite explain.
This week, “arsenic” and “forsythia”
are joined by their i‘s
like long-estranged cousins.
And when they ask
for the French equivalent of sky,
I’m back on a wooden chair
in Madame Baumlin’s
eighth-grade class, passing
a note to David, having
no idea, as my hand grazes his,
that he will drown sailing
that next summer.
I like doing the crossword
with my husband —
Source of support,
three letters.
I’m the one who guesses it,
glad he doesn’t think
of ” bra” in this way.
The puzzle rests
on the counter all week.
I like coming back,
looking at the same clue
I found insolvable
the day before, my mind
often a mystery to me,
turning corners when I sleep
or am upstairs folding clothes.
They get added to pounds.
Yesterday I thought
it had to do with money or meat;
now I can see the chain-link fence
at the local animal shelter.
Of course. “Strays”
I especially like what she does with arsenic and forsythia. Bliumis-Dunn teaches Modern Poetry and Creative Writing at Manhattanville College. She earned a degree in Russian Literature and Language at UC Berkeley, back in ’83. She looks like a poet, amirite?
There was a lot to like in today’s NYTXW, the clue at 51A, e.g., “Bygone waffle slogan.” Waffle slogan? Well, they gave you the back part, so it was easy. “[Blank] my Eggo” Answer, of course, is LEGGO. And how’s this for a non-depressing clue for DIE? “Random number generator.”
I’m crying foul at 21A, though. “_____ Szewinska, only sprinter (male or female) to hold world records in the 100m, 200m and 400m events.” I would have had no hope even if she ran currently for the U.S. But her medals were all back in the 60s/70s, and for Poland. IRINA. Maybe I should’ve known her because she’s Jewish? Nah. Tough clue, esp for a Tuesday.
I liked “You get the picture” as the clue for ETCETERA, and “Whoa, that’s good” for OOH BABY. And Dua LIPA was nicely placed next to EYE OPENER. Here’s DL, a little miffed at Phil for intruding on her workout.
Story from the Onion: Japanese Fishermen Catch 600-Pound Can Of Tuna.
“From the moment I felt the lip of the can tugging on our line, I knew it was going to be the catch of a lifetime,” said fisherman Hideo Kamada, posing with his crew in front of the shiny 10-foot tin of solid-white albacore and beaming with pride. “These chunks of fish packed in vegetable oil put up quite a fight. I’ve personally never hauled in anything larger than a 24-pack of StarKist, so once I got a glimpse of that shiny aluminum container at the surface of the water, I knew it was something special. It took all of our strength to reel it in without damaging the paper label, but we finally were able to lift it up onto the deck and into a shopping cart.”
Bill Jeffs, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK), posted the following:
A few months back a 7-year-old great nephew was all agog for his next day at school, not sure what he’d been told but he was convinced they were going into space. Not totally unreasonable as they go to museums and other visits as part of school. Anyway, he came home totally disappointed, as they only talked about it and saw pictures but didn’t go anywhere.
I’m contemplating whether or not I tell him it’s unlikely he’ll go there even at senior school. Thoughts?
Paul O’Donnell: Tell him. He can handle the truth. He already had a taste of it.
Gareth White: Why not tell him about income tax and inflation while you’re at it?
It feels like Sunday today (it’s Tuesday). Is that part of being retired? Will every day feel like Sunday? Yesterday didn’t. See you tomorrow!
The Wellington Files 