ON THIS DAY: January 21, 2020

January 21st is

Granola Bar Day

National Hugging Day *

Squirrel Appreciation Day *

New England Clam Chowder Day

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ON THIS DAY: January 20, 2020

January 20th is

Martin Luther King Day

Buttercrunch Day

Disc Jockey Day

Cheese Lover’s Day

Day of Acceptance *

Penguin Awareness Day *

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TCS: A Round of Cheese

. .  Good Morning!

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Welcome to The Coffee Shop, just for you early risers on Monday mornings.
This is an Open Thread forum, so if you have an off-topic opinion burning
a hole in your brainpan, feel free to add a comment.

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“Poets have been mysteriously silent
  on the subject of cheese.”

  – G.K. Chesterton

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ON THIS DAY: January 19, 2020

January 19th is

Edgar Allan Poe’s Birthday *

National Neon Patent Day *

National Popcorn Day

National Tin Can Day *

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ON THIS DAY: January 18, 2020

January 18th is

Gourmet Coffee Day

Peking Duck Day

Thesaurus Day *

Winnie the Pooh Day *

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ON THIS DAY: January 17, 2020

January 17th is

Cable Car Day *

Kid Inventors’ Day *

Hot Buttered Rum Day

Popeye the Sailor Day *

International Mentoring Day *

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Word Cloud: WORKING-DAYS

by NONA BLYTH CLOUD

In William Shakespeare’s play, Much Ado About Nothing, Beatrice says in mock lament: I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!

When Don Pedro offers to get her one, she asks if he has a brother like himself, and he responds: Will you have me, lady?

And she replies: No, my lord, unless I might have another for
working-days: your grace is too costly to wear every day. 

There are all kinds of poets. Some are “too costly to wear every day,” their poems full of gorgeous exalted language, and a panoply of gods and goddesses. Others, like today’s poet, are for every day wear, full of the experiences that make up the lives of most people. It is these “working-day” poets who make us look at our “ordinary” days with fresh eyes.

Dorianne Laux was born January 10, 1952, in Augusta, Maine. She worked as a sanatorium cook, a gas station manager, and a maid before receiving a B.A. in English from Mills College in 1988, when she was 36 years old. Her first published poetry collection, Awake, appeared two years later.
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Those most American rites of passage, the high school homecoming game and the dance that follows, are moments of glory for some, and heartache for others, but for good or ill, they are part of the story of how we become who we are.

Homecoming

At the high school football game, the boys
stroke their new muscles, the girls sweeten their lips
with gloss that smells of bubblegum, candy cane,
or cinnamon. In pleated cheerleader skirts
they walk home with each other, practicing yells,
their long bare legs forming in the dark.
Under the arched field lights a girl
in a velvet prom dress stands near the chainlink,
a cone of roses held between her breasts.
Her lanky father, in a corduroy suit, leans
against the fence. While they talk, she slips a foot
in and out of a new white pump, fingers the weave
of her French braid, the glittering earrings.
They could be a couple on their first date, she,
a little shy, he, trying to impress her
with his casual stance. This is the moment
when she learns what she will love: a warm night,
the feel of nylon between her thighs, the fine hairs
on her arms lifting when a breeze
sifts in through the bleachers, cars
igniting their engines, a man bending over her,
smelling the flowers pressed against her neck.
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