Day Three Hundred Thirty Four 2012

While raking leaves today, I uncovered this very confused grape hyacinth blooming in the dirt. Another one was sprouting close by it. What’s up with that?

Day Three Hundred Thirty Three 2012

"Yea, I have looked, and seen November there;
The changeless seal of change it seemed to be,
Fair death of things that, living once, were fair;
Bright sign of loneliness too great for me,
Strange image of the dread eternity,
In whose void patience how can these have part,
These outstretched feverish hands, this restless heart?"
~William Morris,  November

Day Three Hundred Thirty Two 2012

"Beautiful soup! Who cares for fish, game or any other dish? Who would not give all else for two pennyworth of beautiful soup?" ~Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
 "You're through, Soup Nazi. Pack it up. No more soup for you. Next!"~Elaine, in "The Soup Nazi"
  {Crockpot chicken noodle soup for supper. Good stuff.}

Day Three Hundred Thirty One 2012

“Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.” Not really. Mondays don’t bother me much—other than it’s laundry day around my house—and we could use some rain right now. Keeps all those huge piles of leaves on my street from blowing back into the yards. Will the city ever come along and suck them all up? Anyway, you know what gets me down? That song—Rainy Days and Mondays. Karen Carpenter’s voice on this one totally convinces me that she’s having a bad day. She did have a beautiful voice. I had forgotten that she was an exceptional drummer. Have a listen if you’re in the mood.

always gets me down

Day Three Hundred Thirty 2012

Neil and I headed out to the local Christmas tree farm this afternoon, as we usually do the weekend after turkey day. The moon was rising and the sun was setting and the window for tree choosing was rapidly closing. So we set a new record and tagged the second tree that caught our attention before God turned out the lights. This white pine is the chosen one. It’s about nine feet tall. We like it. I think we work better with a deadline looming, so we may wait until sundown again this time next year to tree pick. (Lord willing, of course)