i will be the gladdest thing under the sun!
i will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.
i will look at cliffs and clouds with quiet eyes,
watch the wind bow down the grass, and the grass rise.
and when the lights begin to show up from the town
i will mark which must be mine and then start down.
poem by the amazing
Edna St. Vincent Millay
weekend love to you by
me.
this coffee tastes like i always imagined acorn coffee would taste like.
and yes, i have actually wondered what acorn coffe would taste like before. haven't you wondered? i mean what else did you think squirrels drank in the morning?
verdict: the squirrels are right. yea!
two days ago, our sometimes great annoyance and always great amusement, Wooster (or Jeeves, depending on his mood. he's usually Wooster.) dissapeared. after searching high and low and finding nary a sign of him, he was finally found two houses down... poor stupid animal couldn't find his way home from two houses away.
or at least this is the story we were told. the truth, the cold, hard truth is that Wooster the cat ran away to join the circus, and in an attempt to keep us from grieving his loss, father dear replaced him with ...
a Duck.
he oh so cleverly taught this duck to walk like a cat, and gave him a sneaky cat costume to wear, but forgot one very important detail. the Duck still quacks. yes, duck-Wooster quacks, though he looks exactly like cat-Wooster.
