Starlings

 I had the pleasure of seeing a Starling in full sunlight this morning and what a fantastic picture it was! I didn't catch a photo I am sorry to say. Butch said, "I have never thought of a Starling in that way." So I found this pic on the net but it isn't nearly as pretty as the one I saw. There is some deep purple coloring you can see when they are highlighted with sunlight

Catch me if you can!

 Butch and I are in the getting-ready-to-head South mode. Each year we try to make it a bit easier however something tends to get in the way. I had the plan to take my beading supplies South and that plan remains intact. There was some interest in learning how to bead some rings last season so I am going to be prepared to see that through.

And then I decided to take my Swedish Weaving supplies to sell or donate and finalize that craft I never seem to get back to doing. 

We have a tub marked "Take to Texas" and it has been at the ready all summer. So you see how this can grow. And that is only my end of things. I haven't asked but I do know Butch surely has his list as well.

The pool cues and accessories is a given but that only takes a little space.

This morning as I lay in bed thinking...I remembered I have 2 tubs of yarn that can go too. Oh well! It will be a one-way trip for much of this stuff.

I can hear Butch's low growl when he sees this post. 

Till next time!

The House with Nobody in it

The House with Nobody In It

by

Joyce Kilmer

 

Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track

I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.

I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute

And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it. 

I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;

That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.

I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;

For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two. 

This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,

And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.

It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;

But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside. 

If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid

I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.

I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be

And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free. 

Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,

Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.

But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone

For the lack of something within it that it has never known. 

But a house that has done what a house should do,

a house that has sheltered life,

That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,

A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,

Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet. 

So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track

I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,

Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,

For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.

 

This poem is in the public domain.

 

Alfred Joyce Kilmer (1886 – 1918) is best known for his poem, "Trees,"  but he actually produced quite a large volume of work. Had his life not ended so tragically early, many believe he would have developed into one of America's great poets. Joyce married young and fathered five children even as he was establishing himself as a teacher, writer, and lecturer. While coping with the illness of one of their children, Joyce and his wife converted from the Episcopal faith to Catholocism and he ultimately became the leading Catholic poet of his time. When World War I broke out, Joyce enlisted and had contracted to write a book about his war experiences. Unfortunately, he was killed on a French battlefield before he ever even began the book; he was only 31 when he died. Interesting side note: Joyce's father worked for Johnson & Johnson and is credited with inventing that company's famous baby powder.

 

Our Peers

 Butch and I went to Darrell's Place in Hamlin Iowa to have lunch with longtime friend Sherri Clark. Darrell's Place is at the intersection of Hwy's 71 and 44.  It had been a long time since we had been there and we came away impressed. The food is famous-breaded pork tenderloins- and delicious! They are not the biggest ones we have ever seen and that's okay. I am not impressed by size. I like mine about a half-inch thick and tender. We three ordered tenderloins and fries. I ordered sweet potato fries and they were also done perfectly. To back up a bit, our first pleasant surprise was the prices. My tenderloin sandwich was $5.25 and I added the fries for $2.50. It is rare indeed to see those kinds of prices these days. They are also famous for their homemade pies. We had lemon meringue and it too was a "wow" experience. The visit, the food, and the drive were all pleasant events. It would not take much coaxing to get me there again.

On the way home Butch and I were talking about different things and I said, "All our peers are disappearing." I tickled myself. Would that be considered a pun? Unfortunately, it is true but also the road we are traveling down.