'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

23 February 2014

Sunday Kipling

Late, late I am so LATE! Got up this morning and just plain forgot. Shame on me.

I have a big pistol match coming up. Berry's Bullets is sponsoring a steel shoot first week of April. They're a local company so it's really great to see them stepping up and sponsoring a big match. I should also have a 3 Gun coming up first Saturday of March. I hope. I'm starting to get the shakes and seeing pink elephants. I need to shoot.

Lu and Angus are good. We went to the range yesterday and shot about 500 rounds or .22 through her Ruger SR22 and our M&P 15-22s. She gets a little closer to competing all the time. She's starting to equate it to running a race and that's a positive development. Angus is just as goofy and loveable as ever.

We've been working on the new bathroom. The water supply is in, main floor is tiled and most of the sheetrock is up. I have to finish up the walls and ceiling, tape and mud all the joints and then we'll be ready for sanding, texture and paint. I'm doing the main bathroom first, then I'll finish the shower in Part II. Look for a post this coming week.

I hope you are all having a fine Sunday. Know that you are always in our thoughts and prayers.

A Ballad of Jakkko Hill

One moment bid the horses wait,
  Since tiffin is not laid till three,
Below the upward path and strait
  You climbed a year ago with me.
Love came upon us suddenly
  And loosed -- an idle hour to kill --
A headless, harmless armory
  That smote us both on Jakko Hill.

Ah, Heaven! we would wait and wait 
  Through Time and to Eternity!
Ah, Heaven! we could conquer Fate
  With more than Godlike constancy
I cut the date upon a tree --
  Here stand the clumsy figures still: 
"10-7-85, A.D."
  Damp in the mists on Jakko Hill.

What came of high resolve and great,
  And until Death fidelity?
Whose horse is waiting at your gate?
  Whose 'rickshaw-wheels ride over me?
No Saint's, I swear; and -- let me see
  To-night what names your programme fill --
We drift asunder merrily,
  As drifts the mist on Jakko Hill.

Princess, behold our ancient state
  Has clean departed; and we see
'Twas Idleness we took for Fate
  That bound light bonds on you and me.
Amen! Here ends the comedy
  Where it began in all good will,
Since Love and Leave together flee
  As driven mist on Jakko Hill!

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