'The true Soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because He loves what is behind him.' -G. K. Chesterton

09 November 2013

Sunday Kipling

Framing is going well. We should be basically done with it today. Monday starts wiring. It's actually starting to look like a room again.

Angus continues to improve. He hardly ever limps these days. We're waiting for the year mark for the final prognosis but there are times when we actually forget he was ever hurt.

Hot dogs for dinner today I think. Hey, I'm in a proletarian mood today.

Have a great Sunday. Kiss your special Guy or Gal and thank the Good Lord for all your blessings.

Today's Kipling is dedicated to Murphy's Law and Aaron over at The Shekel. Two guys who actually spend their own money and munificent free time strapping on devices most complex in order to risk their lives swimming around under thousands of feet of wet stuff that isn't known to be breathable to us humans. Diving may not be quite as frightening as jumping out of adequately functioning aircraft but it's a spine tingling close second place. Well, for this land lubbing leg anyway.


The Deep-Sea Cables

The wrecks dissolve above us; 
Their dust drops down from afar 
Down to the dark, to the utter dark, 
Where the blind white sea-snakes are.
There is no sound, no echo of sound, 
In the deserts of the deep,
Or the great grey level plains of ooze 
Where the shell-burred cables creep.
Here in the womb of the world 
Here on the tie-ribs of earth
Words, and the words of men, 
Flicker and flutter and beat 
Warning, sorrow and gain, 
Salutation and mirth 
For a Power troubles the Still 
That has neither voice nor feet.
They have wakened the timeless Things; 
They have killed their father Time;
Joining hands in the gloom, 
A league from the last of the sun.
Hush!  Men talk to-day 
O'er the waste of the ultimate slime, 
And a new Word runs between: 
Whispering, "Let us be one!"

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