Pick a little, talk a little
by chuckofish
Is anyone else as tired as I am of headlines like this?
The (Secretly Filthy) Winter Wardrobe Staples You Need to Wash Right Now
I mean c’mon. It’s the “You Need” and the “Right Now,” you know?
Isn’t there enough stress and pressure on us without getting hit right and left on the internet with orders about stuff like that?
Well, I say you need to sit down right now
and stare out the window.
Eat some candy if you feel like it
and have a glass of wine.
Then watch some great old tv show without commercials.
But under no circumstances plan
9 DIY Projects That Help You Stay Organized.
And P.S. I don’t care if they are secretly filthy. I am not going to hand wash my leather gloves.
But I might re-read this old poem by W. Wordsworth that daughter #2 emailed me yesterday.
SHE was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature’s daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.
I’m just saying.





