Well, we've had several sunny days in a row now, so everybody is feeling very spring-y. And it is officially spring today after all.

My hot water tank has started leaking, so my landlord found a new one yesterday and will be installing it this afternoon. I'm so pleased it didn't burst - drips are so much easier to deal with.

The Clod and the Pebble

"Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."

So sang a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

William Blake
1757 - 1827

I'm having one of my "everything aches" days, so not too much will be happening. I HAVE to grocery shop today, so Denise is going to pick me up after work. I'll take a couple of Tylenol about an hour before she gets here so I'll be fairly mobile. I really hate these days - they remind me I'm getting old (VBG) and I get frustrated when I can't pick something up or hold on to it for very long.

Breathes There the Man with Soul So Dead

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott
1771 - 1832

Well, the snow is gone except for the odd pile where the rain hasn't gotten to it, it's wet, windy and above zero. Now THIS is Prince Rupert! LOL

Stitched some more on the project I was having trouble with and got the head, arm and part of the robe done. Now I'm working on the wings which is more of the Glissengloss thread but I'm using shorter lengths and it's working up nicely. I like watching progress.

When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:--
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.

Lord Byron
1788 - 1824

Well, got in some stitching time yesterday, but spent as much time frogging (ripping out) as I did stitching, so I ended up only finishing the halo. Not a great accomplishment for 2 hours of stitch time!

Fable

The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter "Little Prig";
Bun replied,
"You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut."

Ralph Waldo Emerson
1803 - 18882

Well, it was more snow yesterday and a lot of it. Yuck! It was that wretched stuff that turns icy when you put pressure on it. I had to walk up the hill to my place as Michelle could not drive the ice alley and I took a tumble and went down hard. Thanks to the depth of snow and my heavy winter jacket, no serious damage, but I am sore today and I have some world class bruises! The really embarassing part was I had to crawl to the top of the hill as I could not get traction for my feet to stand up - that's how slippery it was. Very hard on one's dignity not to mention being cold and wet when I finally got inside. However, I turned on the electric blanket and crawled into bed. Was nice and toasty in no time and the cats were in heaven!

When I went to check for mail this morning, there was MORE snow coming down. Very light, but still snow! It's supposed to snow/rain this weekend and then freeze. It's just a mess everywhere. Thank goodness I don't have anything that HAS to be done requiring me to go out.

Days

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all.
I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp,
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I, too late,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
1803 - 1882

Weigh day yesterday and I'm up again by 3 pounds. Which to me makes no sense - I was more careful with what I ate than even in January. Frustrating.

It's still so cold - and we had more snow yesterday. And this is supposed to last until the weekend at least. This is most un-Rupertlike weather - at least for the years that I've lived here. It certainly makes getting up and down my hill very interesting, to say the least.

Old Ironsides

Ay, tear her battered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar;--
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more!

Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread,
Or know the conquered knee;--
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the seas!

O, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave;
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale!

Oliver Wendell Holmes
1809 - 1894

It is so cold here and has been for about a week now. Today we have a wind chill of -21. I know, I know, it's a lot worse in other parts of the country, but this is unheard of for us, especially over an extended length of time. And it looks like it's going to stay like this at least until next Sunday.





I finally have my new computer set up and while there are still a few things to iron out, the basics are all up and running. The friend who gave it to me is going to see if she can tweak it the next time she visits (probably Tuesday night) and if not we'll get her son to look at it. It's nice to have friends with children who are part of the computer generation! It is soooo nice to be working with a full size keyboard again. Karen has taken her Netbook home with huge "thank you"s. I would have been lost without it.





I finished the last of my mouse pad inserts.


It's another Stoney Creek pattern. I got them all packaged up and in the mail on Friday, so hopefully they will arrive at their new homes sometime this week.

Michelle took me out for our end of the month lunch today and I had breakfast for lunch. Some days you just gotta feed that hash brown craving. LOL

The City in the Sea

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.

No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently--
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free
Up domes--up spires--up kingly halls--
Up fanes--up Babylon-like walls--
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers--
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.

Resignedly beneath the skky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrents and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.

There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye--
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass--
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea--
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.

But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave--there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside
In slightly sinking, the dull tide--
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow--
The hours are breathing faint and low--
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.

Edgar Allan Poe
1809 - 1849


"fanes" are temples