Back on the farm in Summer

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I trailered a towable man lift (bucket lift) from Georgia to New York. The thing that made it eventful is that I had to drive my truck. My 2017 Chevy 3500 HD service truck (with only 31k miles) is not my Tesla. I have grown very accustomed to the Tesla self-driving, navigation and general hi-tech luxury. The truck, although I am very fond of my truck, is stressful and expensive to drive compared to the Tesla. Being on the farm alone has been an eye opener. I had forgotten how quiet and in-nature this place is. Very occasionaly a car or plane comes by and disrupts the void, but only occasionally. It has been very reflective. It is the first time I have been up here from Georgia without a specific date I must be back for... or so it seems. "All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone."-- Blaise Pasacal mid 1600s. I guess I am working on humanity's problems. It can take a lot out of you. I feel good about some of the pics I ha...
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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.

Comments

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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