Another trip between Georgia and the New York farm

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Its unusual that I make the trip this late in the year. Although it is highly unlikely it would snow (and bring the road salt and all the other bad stuff). It is often rainy. I had excellent weather. The main objective was to bring the brush hog up and mow trails. The trails have been disapearing and there are a number of bush islands appearing everywhere a small finish mower can't do the job. The tractor worked well. Back up over a multiflora rose bush with the brush hog up and drop it down and take care of business --at least for another couple of year or so. I spent many hours years ago yanking these things out of the ground with tractor and chain which yields a more satisfactory long term outcome. I will be doing the same with the largest ones for sure. I understand that these bushes were originally planted as a natural fence. Animals and humans alike don't like the thorns. They are invasive.
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Edward Lear

I The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, 'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

II Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl! How charmingly sweet you sing! O let us be married! too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?' They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the Bong-tree grows And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose, His nose, His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.

III 'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.' So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.

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Anonymous said…
i googled "runcible spoon" a while back when i was reading this poem to my kids -- there is no such spoon
11:11 AM
Anonymous said…
Ah... but there is a Runcible spoon according to Webster and other dictionaries: It is a fork like utensil with three prongs, one broad, one sharp for serving hors d' oeuvres.
11:36 AM
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