**
Catch a man a fish, and you can sell it to him. Teach a man to fish, and you ruin a wonderful business opportunity.
~~Karl Marx.
**
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At Day's End!
@ 2009-11-09 – 20:44:31
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A November Night!
@ 2009-11-09 – 10:38:04
**"How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;
They have put shawls of fog around them, see!
What if the air should grow so dimly white
That we would lose our way along the paths
Made new by walls of moving mist receding
The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!
That was our bench the time you said to me
The long new poem -- but how different now,
How eerie with the curtain of the fog
Making it strange to all the friendly trees!"
~~Sara Teasdale, A November Night -
At Day's End!
@ 2009-11-08 – 20:02:02
**
You only require two things in life: your sanity and your wife.
~~Tony Blair.**
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Fun With Nuns!
@ 2009-11-08 – 17:56:12
*
At a small parish in rural New England there lived a priest, and several nuns. One day, one of the older nuns was noticing that the rugs in the church were beginning to fray. She went to the priest and told him, "Father, I believe your rugs need to be replaced soon."The priest thanked her for bringing it to his attention, and told her that he thought that she had been there long enough to refer to church property as 'our' not 'your.'
Several days later, the same nun noticed that the hedge needed to be trimmed. She again went to the priest and told him, "Father, I've noticed that your... I mean our hedge needs to be trimmed."
The priest thanked her for again bringing something to his attention and this time asked her if she had seen his watch that had gone missing. She said she hadn't, but assured him she would look for it.
A few days later the parish received word that the bishop would be coming for a visit. The entire parish was busy readying the church for the visit. On the day the bishop arrived, the same nun came down the front stairs yelling, "Father! Father! I found your watch!"
The bishop said, "How wonderful my child. Where did you find it?"
After saying hello to the bishop, the nun turned to the priest and said, "I found it under OUR bed."
**
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November! Remembrance!
@ 2009-11-08 – 09:14:33
**"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns belowWe are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields."
~~Colonel John McRae, In Flanders Fields
November 11th - Veteran's Day in America, Armistice Day, 1918, Remembered**
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At Day's End!
@ 2009-11-07 – 20:08:19
**Hurrying and Worrying are not the same as Strength.
~~Nigerian Proverb.**
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November Musing!
@ 2009-11-07 – 11:03:13
**
"It's mornings like this;
The stingy sun trying to hold back
Even the warmth of its reflection
Flashing coldly In the lake.
When November leaves drop in sudden gusts,
Like a red and yellow flock of birds
Swooping at once to ground.
Or even nights:
When winds reach wet hands
To take you spinning with random paper
Down back street gutters, under straining bridges
To clogged rivers.
It's this:
The time of year, along with spring,
When poets must take care
Not to sing the same old songs
Stolen from tribal memory."
~~Thomas R. Drinkard**
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At Day's End!
@ 2009-11-06 – 21:35:27
**
"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou cans't then not be false to anyone."
~~William Shakespeare.**
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My Music!
@ 2009-11-06 – 20:42:35
A delicately sweet piece of music; Romance from The Gadfly, by Shostokovich. There is something...very beautiful in the melody!.....Share in my pleasure!
***
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November Musing!
@ 2009-11-06 – 12:47:29
**"Have you ever noticed a tree standing naked against the sky,
How beautiful it is?
All its branches are outlined, and in its nakedness
There is a poem, there is a song.
Every leaf is gone and it is waiting for the spring.
When the spring comes, it again fills the tree with
The music of many leaves,
Which in due season fall and are blown away.
And this is the way of life."
~~Krishnamurti**
