Well, our rain day has turned into another snow day, so more reading is definitely in the works. Found a poem by William Butler Yeats that caught my eye.
No Second Troy
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple like a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
Wonder who the woman was that got under his skin?
There was another reason for reading today - I had to pull out 2 day's worth of stitching on my latest project because I had miscounted and I was off by too much to work around. AAARRRGGG! That's what I get for starting a new project immediately after finishing an old one and I'm tired. Oh well, tomorrow is another day.
3 hours ago