After a quick but wonderful dinner and pokemon go consult with mom, I headed home but I got sidelined by the sky.
A practical note for those who chance here, discovering this blog: I began with twelve empty bobbins and have two as yet uncounted bobbins which are partially full of thread. I will now start to re-use the ten bobbins now empty. And if it seems, to your willing ears that my speech has become long and of a manner more familiar in older times, it mayhap be laid to the first part of the audio book I am listening to. Long those words feed down into sentences and then to gathering tributaries of interwoven rivers and tales, bearing along those with many similar names and many varied lands and places now lost to time. Although the fair people of those places may no longer be known in our own lands and it being uncertain that the dwarfs shall ever again wrought bobbins as in the shining hour of their realms, I will re-use the bobbins you see before you, remembering always the friendship that many treasured in their time and the strength with which they bent against the evil one who shall not be named here.
in this case, to breakfast.
Here’s the original view, seen in the kitchen:
But maybe you’d prefer the egg alone:
The Writer’s Almanac today offers a particularly lovely poem, for you parents out there:
Now, in still darkness, listening to their breath slow and ease
into sleep’s regular rhythm.
They are grown, you might’ve guessed.from: Talking About the Day, by Jim Daniels
If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
