DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. 
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First up this week: Xylography … 
I like woodcut printing. I like linocut printing … essentially the same as woodcut, using a sheet of linoleum instead of a block of wood. Xylography is a fancy word for the process in wood: "wood engraving … woodcut: the art of making prints from the natural wood grain" (from Merriam-Webster). There's something essential and elemental, and less digital, about woodcut and linocut printing. I'm sure there are those using 3-D printers but I like the notion that the printer-artists are carving away by hand, even if I'm self-deceiving. There. Now you've the explanation for all those woodcut and linocut images beginning TheThereThere recently. 

Second up this week, Xeric …
It would be difficult, here in the Western USA, to be unaware of xeriscaping. A word of recent coinage (1980s). Plenty of landscapes here are shifting to drought-tolerant plants. Xeric is the obvious root word for xeriscape. Xeric: "low or deficient in moisture that is available for the support of plant life" (Merriam-Webster). Despite our remarkable wet season in my area, there is still a profound xeric influence on our landscape. We've taken xeriscaping steps, but our dogs (particularly little Lucy Anne Honeysuckle) sure do like a moist lawn for tummy rolls. But it needn't be our lawn. She finds them on her walks. 

Third up this week, Xenial …
Ancient Greeks might have had xenial relationships: Hosts and guests hospitable together. I think of little dog Lucy's secret xenial relationship with shady moist lawn proprietors. Her hosts are probably are unaware that her belly is cool and wet due to their non-xeric gardening approach. I trust they wouldn't mind her rolling. She's small, leaves no evidence, and isn't soiling their space. Lucy's humans aim for xenial relationships, too. Be kind, be generous, and welcome a few tummy rolls. Especially those that can be had in the shade. Some may prefer a refreshing beverage to a tummy roll, and that's OK, so long as they give Lucy a little rub. 

Another Novella of Ireland ...
Small Things Like These, by Claire Keegan
Keegan's Foster is a lovely short novel. I like this one even better, although some reviewers found it had a slightly softer edge than Foster. It's a Christmas story, so you could wait if you wish. I'll just read it again come the holidays. As the Boston Globe review suggests: "A story you will want to read again and again." It's 1985 and Bill Furlong is a busy fuel (coal, wood, etc) delivery merchant in a small Irish town. Furlong has a dedicated wife and five daughters, and he's questions about his parentage that are possibly answered by this book's end. The crux of the book is the local group of nuns and their Magdalen laundry … if you don't already know about them, know that they weren't nice. Chapter 7 (last chapter) brought me to tears, and will again. 

And a bit more … 

"This Is Just To Say"
by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold


And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's "Sometimes"