a poem

Read this on Writer's Almanac
Leisure
by William Henry Davies

Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

B is Beautiful Baby African Violets!

My Oma Stella had African violets blooming about her house. I miss them. I miss her! I see her blue eyes in my children's eyes, also her big kissable cheeks.

For a few years I have looked in stores and asked my neighbor and floral wizard about African violets, more unusual than the two deep solid purple ones I have blooming. Finally I found a site that sells exquisite flowers. For a birthday hint I sent C the link and voila! a big box of very tiny plants arrived on the 29th. On the 30th C & I walked to Home Depot , bought some special AV dirt and new pots and on the 31st I planted them! By the 2nd I was having a happy birthday (ignoring any news on that day). They are in our kitchen, thriving. They are happy to be here and I am so happy to have them. I have no idea what they will look like when they bloom.

Thank you C! You are sweet and generous! You are fun to grow old with... the best is yet to be.
(Thanks also to Mr. Browning.)

My Mum's tomatoes? Not so great. I'll take pictures... there are a few tomatoes, no 5 pounders though. I didn't stake the plant correctly, or prune it as it grew. Also, I think our soil needs some "amending."

Letter to The Writer's Almanac

I have enjoyed the Writer's Almanac for as long as I could-have. While it was on KBYU I set my alarm to it. Although I was awake I didn't want to miss it. When it was off the local public radio stations for years I wrote to them on your behalf, mine too! Now I enjoy the daily email and listen to the podcasts when I can. Thank you for your great work.

Here's the deal: CHEER UP. It seems that so many of the poems and histories recently chosen are glum. Right now, I am awake contemplating my children's lives... The email from my deaf son's 2nd grade teacher. My beautiful 16 year old. Schedules. Republican (not really "conservative") neighbors and relatives telling me, loudly, what they think about things I quietly disagree with. My house is a mess. The hazelnut birthday cake didn't turn out as planned. There is personal and National debt. And then there is Sarah Hot-babe Palin, mean girl, un-qualified VP?, train-wreck?

Please, oh please, help me out by just throwing out a few funny poems, something light-hearted, now and then. I'm probably not alone in my stress and woe and need for humor. Probably need a few extra doses right now.

Thanks for listening!
Your fan,
H

H is for hobbledehoy |ˈhäbəldēˌhoi|

Found hobbledehoy |ˈhäbəldēˌhoi| as the word of the day on my screen saver. Just had to copy this: hobbledehoy |ˈhäbəldēˌhoi| and write about this:

Favorite Finger/Baby on Lap Play:

This is the way the Ladies ride:
A prim. A prim. A prim. [bounce baby on your lap, nice and easy]

This is the way the Gentlemen ride:
A trot. A trot. A trot. [bounce a little faster]

This is the way the Farmers ride:
Hobbledehoy! |ˈhäbəldēˌhoi|! Hobbledehoy! [3x, rocking back and forth]

This is the way the Highwaymen ride:
A gallop! A gallop! A gallop! [bounce faster!]

This is the way the Astronauts ride
I N T O O R B I T!!! [baby "rockets" into orbit, in mother's hands]

Here is the truth: KIDS LOVE THIS! Go wild with makes and models of cars. For example Uncle Doug's Mustangs go "VrOOOOOOM VrOOOOOOM!" and the baby drives fast fast around corners. Uncle David's "Green Machine" (A Toyota w/ +300K miles on it) goes, "Cough Cough sputter sputter Purrrr."

A is for Art & Poetry.

Here is another poem:

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
by William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.


I like that poem, another possible plate. The art is by N from several months ago. I'm going to make iSpy quilts for Christmas -- no relation to iPhones, iPods or any other iTems. I am thinking of embroidering the drawing onto a square for his quilt. A bit grim, but there you have it. He'd love it. I love his drawings. Pretty deep for a 7 year old.

P is for Poetry.

Thinking about putting this on a plate. The plastic Mak-A-Plate kind, with hopes that the children will learn a thing or two at the table. But, does it mean, "I look at you, and I sigh," with glee or with gloom? There are times when I look at my kids, and C too, and sigh both ways. ;) Tell me what you think. (That is a call-out to you MVL.) I was reminded of this poem while listening & reading The Writer's Almanac.

A Drinking Song
by William Butler Yeats

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.


.

TP is for Toilet Poem...

C travels quite a bit and speaks Mandarin Chinese. One of his design friends in China has a poem, in Chinese, on his website. It is pretty much the main thing you see when you go to his site. C told him that message might be completely true, and yet, somehow, um... well, it just doesn't translate well. See for your self. C is working on his own Ode de Toilet, so to speak.
Here's the link to the toilet poem in English:
http://www.meikao.com/english/index-e.asp

Here's the original translation (same as on the site now):
Original Translation:

The Toilet Bout Spirit
The service moral of Meikao

The toilet bout has profound cultural connotation, it is one of the scales of civilization.
The toilet bout has its original modesty feature, and it has to be annealed before it is shaped.
Equanimity, imperturbability and being able to stand with enthusiasm are the toilet bout’s character.
Ready for loneliness, responsibility, and brave in sacrificing are the toilet bout’s spirit.
The toilet bout can release your pressure and make you comfortable.
The toilet bout will shine forever by self-brushing.
We are proud to be toilet bout for clients, we are willing to devote to you, just trust in us.