<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[the feminist librarian]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[http://thefeministlibrarian.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[Anna Clutterbuck-Cook]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://thefeministlibrarian.com/author/feministlib/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[forest hills cemetery [photo&nbsp;post]]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p><img class="aligncenter" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6YnwGNc0z2k/VEMI3Wk2IfI/AAAAAAAAQbY/02F3ExhyP_4/w407-h543-no/100_4303.JPG" alt="" width="407" height="543" /></p>
<p>We were supposed to travel this weekend, but Hanna was unwell so rather than push ourselves and land her with three weeks of pneumonia like last fall &#8212; that was fun! &#8212; we revised things and stayed in place. On Saturday morning we took our coffee and pastries (thank you <a href="http://ulacafe.com/">Ula Cafe</a>!) and went out to Forest Hills Cemetery to sit and read in the October sun.<!--more--></p>
<p><img class="aligncenter" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3h7pTcz7UK8/VEMI3ZPzDrI/AAAAAAAAQbc/0CIdxr9wESg/w724-h543-no/100_4302.JPG" alt="" width="724" height="543" /></p>
<p>Ula is doing this amazing orange clove seasonal latte which sounds like it should be dreadful but instead tastes like a liquid form of those chocolate oranges one gets at the Christmas holidays.<img class="alignnone" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-NsN7rBqF8_Y/VEMI2niZzZI/AAAAAAAAQbI/LYUcdB-N8JM/w724-h543-no/100_4304.JPG" alt="" width="724" height="543" /></p>
<p>The heron, Canadian geese, and mallards, were totally unfazed by our presence &#8212; though after I snapped this picture a couple of super happy canines came by and drove them all protesting out to the island in the middle of the lake.</p>
<p><img class="aligncenter" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Fn5eqFbBoiU/VEMI6MdABoI/AAAAAAAAQb4/l2DzLZBj-_E/w407-h543-no/100_4308.JPG" alt="" width="407" height="543" /></p>
<p>I&#8217;ve been reading Roxane Gay&#8217;s <em><a href="http://www.roxanegay.com/bad-feminist/">Bad Feminist: Essays</a></em> this weekend, which has reinforced my perception that it&#8217;s been too long since I sat down and essayed. Creative nonfiction, the art of the personal-political essay, was my first love in college and Gay&#8217;s prose is so sweet it&#8217;s at times painful to read. In a <em>good </em>way.<img class="alignnone" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QbhfvbUAxSQ/VEMI39MDAiI/AAAAAAAAQbg/Q6ftG87XT7o/w724-h543-no/100_4305.JPG" alt="" width="724" height="543" /></p>
<p>You might be seeing more longform writing here in the future &#8212; though how far in the future I cannot say. I need to consider, still, what I want to write and how I want to write it. These things take time. <img class="alignnone" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MLYaax6qP2k/VEMI5uP8Q2I/AAAAAAAAQbs/ZCQ2N3TQDnI/w724-h543-no/100_4306.JPG" alt="" width="724" height="543" /></p>
<p>In the meanwhile, I also have <em>Maplecroft</em> and <em>Bitter Greens</em> and <em>The Late Scholar</em> on my bookshelf. Fiction calls!</p>
<p><img class="aligncenter" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-1z04UfEDpUM/VEMI7Kg0KdI/AAAAAAAAQcQ/GmZoR0SPlAU/w407-h543-no/100_4310.JPG" alt="" width="407" height="543" /></p>
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