Lu and I are both a bit under the weather. We'll take today off and hope Angus understands why Mom and Dad aren't going hiking with him today. I'm guessing the driveway won't be done until Friday at the earliest.
I hope this day finds you and those you love well. Enjoy these last days before Winter sets in.
This Sunday Kipling is dedicated to Ed Rasimus who is fighting the good fight against the silent killer. His site may be on hiatus but his voice cannot be silenced. You are never far from our thoughts and prayers Ed.
For To Admire
The Injian Ocean sets an' smiles So sof', so bright, so bloomin' blue; There aren't a wave for miles an' miles Excep' the jiggle from the screw. The ship is swep', the day is done, The bugle's gone for smoke and play; An' black ag'in the settin' sun The Lascar sings, "Hum deckty hai!" For to admire an' for to see, For to be'old this world so wide -- It never done no good to me, But I can't drop it if I tried! I see the sergeants pitchin' quoits, I 'ear the women laugh an' talk, I spy upon the quarter-deck The orficers an' lydies walk. I thinks about the things that was, An' leans an' looks acrost the sea, Till, spite of all the crowded ship There's no one lef' alive but me. The things that was which I 'ave seen, In barrick, camp, an' action too, I tells them over by myself, An' sometimes wonders if they're true; For they was odd -- most awful odd -- But all the same, now they are o'er, There must be 'eaps o' plenty such, An' if I wait I'll see some more. Oh, I 'ave come upon the books, An' frequent broke a barrick-rule, An' stood beside an' watched myself Be'avin' like a bloomin' fool. I paid my price for findin' out, Nor never grutched the price I paid, But sat in Clink without my boots, Admirin' 'ow the world was made. Be'old a crowd upon the beam, An' 'umped above the sea appears Old Aden, like a barrick-stove That no one's lit for years an' years! I passed by that when I began, An' I go 'ome the road I came, A time-expired soldier-man With six years' service to 'is name. My girl she said, "Oh, stay with me!" My mother 'eld me to 'er breast. They've never written none, an' so They must 'ave gone with all the rest -- With all the rest which I 'ave seen An' found an' known an' met along. I cannot say the things I feel, And so I sing my evenin' song: For to admire an' for to see, For to be'old this world so wide -- It never done no good to me, But I can't drop it if I tried!