Obsessions

In a recent column in Minneapolis' very own fab mag, The Rake, Goddess of the Airwaves and Commentator Diva Mary Lucia lists her most current obsessions.

Not to be a copykitty (okay, so I am a copykitty, but kitties are one of Mary Lucia's obsessions and hey, as my partner always says, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery), here's a few from little ol' me.

• The little brownish-blackish spots on the leaves of my rose bushes. Is it black spot? Is it rust? Is it spreading?
• Vegan shoes. Plus belts. Ones that don't look dorky.
• Prickly heat.
• Poetry by gals. Brock-Broido, Dickinson, Equi. Lovely.
• Wimbledon women's tennis. Venus or Lindsay -- ah, for whom to cheer? (This obsession expires tomorrow).
• The word "Wimbledon." Have I been wrong all my life, thinking it was "Wimbeldon"? By golly, I think so.

See future postings for obsessive additions. In the meantime, Miss Emily must have had a few obsessions herself. Today's Dickisonian Oracle suggests the following:

When Diamonds are a Legend,
And Diadems - a Tale -
I Brooch and Earring for Myself,
Do sow, and Raise for sale -

And tho' I'm scarce accounted,
My Art, a Summer Day - had Patrons -
Once - it was a Queen -
And once - a Butterfly -
(E. Dickinson, 553)