a chair is: The Chair's Seasonal Portrait

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

The Chair's Seasonal Portrait - Winter 2010

The Chair, Winter 2010

Every once in awhile, I like to take a picture of The Chair. The Chair, after all, is sort of the raison d'etre of this blog, a symbol, a symptom. And, after all these years, it's kind of a beloved bit of cluttery chaos to me. The Chair has appeared on a couple of other, more well-read blogs, and once, was asked to be part of a professor's class presentation in the UK...something on symbolism and photographic images, if I remember correctly.

For last year's picture and some from previous years, you can scroll through the entries here.

I would like to point out the improvement in the number of shoes underneath the chair. And the lack of books stacked on the seat, although a few may be hidden under all the winter clothes.

Am I tidying up The Chair anytime soon? Probably not until Spring.

What I am working on in the decluttering/organizing realm is time and paper management and my tendency to over-commit. I'll write more about that in my next post.

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Official chair is...
Folk Song & Folk Tale

Why an official blog folk song & tale?

There's A Hole in the Bucket

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,
There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

So fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.

With what should I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I fix it, dear Liza, with what?

With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, with straw.

But the straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The straw is too long, dear Liza, too long.

So cut it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So cut it dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it!

With what should I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

Use the hatchet, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the hatchet, dear Henry, the hatchet.

But the hatchet's too dull, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The hatchet's too dull, dear Liza, too dull.

So, sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So sharpen it dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it!

With what should I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I sharpen, dear Liza, with what?

Use the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, the stone.

But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry.

So wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So wet it dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it.

With what should I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, water.

With what should I carry it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I carry it dear Liza, with what?

Use the bucket dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, the bucket!

But...there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza...

The Old Woman
and Her Pig

ONCE upon a time an old woman was sweeping her little house, when, to her great joy, she found a silver sixpence.

"What," said she, "shall I do with this little sixpence? I think I will go to market and buy a pig." So the next day she went to market and bought a nice little white pig. She tied a string to one of the pig's legs and began to drive him home.

On the way the old woman and her pig came to a stile, and she said:

"Please, pig, get over the stile."

But the pig would not.

Just then a little dog came trotting up, and the old woman said to him:

"Dog, dog, bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the dog would not. So the old woman held up her stick, and said:

"Stick, stick, beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the stick would not.

So the old woman gathered some bits of wood together to make a fire, and set them on fire, and then threw her stick into the fire and said:

"Fire, fire, burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the fire would not.

So the old woman fetched a pail of water that was standing near and said:

"Water, water, quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the water would not.

Then the old woman saw an ox coming; so she said:

"Ox, ox, drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't bum stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go;
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the ox would not.

So the old woman turned around and saw a butcher, and she said:

"Butcher, butcher, kill ox;
Ox won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the butcher would not.

So the old woman took a rope out of her pocket, and said:

"Rope, rope, hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox;
Ox won't .drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the rope would not.

Just then a large brown mouse ran across the meadow, and she said:

"Mouse, mouse, gnaw rope;
Rope won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox;
Ox won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

"Yes," said the mouse, "I will, if you will give me some cheese."

So the old woman put her hand in her pocket and found a nice piece of cheese; and when the mouse had eaten it:

The mouse began to gnaw the rope,
The rope began to hang the butcher,
The butcher began to kill the ox,
The ox began to drink the water,
The water began to quench the fire,
The fire began to burn the stick,
The stick began to beat the dog,
The dog began to bite the pig,
And the pig began to go.

But what time the old woman and her pig got home you, nor I, nor nobody knows.

--Tales of Laughter (1902), eds. Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith

a chair is

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

The Chair's Seasonal Portrait - Winter 2010

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Previous Posts

Official chair is... Folk Song & Folk Tale

There's A Hole in the Bucket

The Old Womanand Her Pig

Official chair is...
Folk Song & Folk Tale

The Old Woman
and Her Pig