This show will be up at The Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts until January 3rd, so catch it now.

On Christmas morning, the local robins and mockingbirds discovered the deciduous holly I planted this summer, and feasted upon its red berries until there were none left.

"It took me until today to understand what the word "hipster" has come to mean. When I heard people complaining about neighborhoods infested with hipsters, bars ruined by hipsters, I didn't really give it much thought beyond remembering Yogi Berra's lament: "The place is too crowded--nobody goes there anymore." The red herring was the word "hipster," which to my mind couldn't possibly be synonymous with "yuppie" or any of the other terms for people who have more money than you do but no souls, and who spend their free time subjecting all you hold dear to unfriendly takeover.

"In my mind the hipster stood for fingerpops, harlequin-pattern banlon shirts, cuban heels, toothpick and cigarette both at the same time, mohair suits, shirt-jacs, chesterfield overcoats, comb in the breast pocket, use of brylcreem years after the British Invasion, Jimmy Smith records, Mongo Santamaria records, Arthur Prysock records, unfiltered Kools, the novels of Richard Stark, the pornographic novels of Alexander Trocchi, the glory days of Gent and Cavalier, never raising the voice above a throaty whisper, clipped hand gestures, wakefulness despite half-shut eyelids, communicating volumes entirely with the eyebrows, walking with a rolling shuffle, having a substantial number of friends whose race is different from yours.

"You get the picture, I think. Yes, it was largely a male phenomenon--there were hipster women in black leotards, but they didn't look all that different from beatnik women in black leotards. It was a style that may have peaked between 1957 and 1963, but it remained, persistent and underground, for decades afterward, ignoring all movements and trends, implacable in its deep and nearly unreadable coolness..." Link

Looks like we got around twenty-four inches here. Anyone get more?

For those of you who were interested in ordering a bottle of that amazingly fresh Umbrian olive oil: below is Kathy's email. Kathy has told me that shipping to the west coast may run up to about nine or ten dollars for one bottle.

umbrianadventure(at)gmail.com

Here is Kathy's blog, Umbrian Adventures, which depicts her travels in Italy.

Enjoy!

~W

Went on foot this evening to deliver a venison lasagna and an Arvo Part cd to a friend who lives in the woods outside of town. Took me three hours. ( Read more... )

Over a century old. Shutters and cedar shingles were ripped off by wind. Made temporary repairs to brace it for the coming winter storms.

Got some of the trash up. The Good Gray Poet, for heaven's sake, and trash everywhere. Oh, Camden.

Attended an olive oil tasting at friend Kathy's house last week. Tried a selection of freshly-pressed oils sent from Kathy's friend in Umbria, who grows olives. The one above was stellar: the oil was a blend of several kinds of olives, and had a beautiful green color. The taste was a complex blend of herbal, almost tomatoey notes. Best olive oil I've ever had. Took this bottle home.

Kathy's quite the foodie. You can catch up with her at Forking Delicious, Umbrian Adventures, and Philly Stories. You can also see her Flickr travel pics and food porn here.