I always love seeing them, no matter how common they are at the Tip of the Mitt. On a day last summer, I stopped by the side of the road to watch this year's gang in that field across from the new Nature Preserve. Notice that the field has that lavender glow caused by the blooms of the dreaded invasive spotted knapweed. Not any more invasive than human beings perhaps, but harshly judged because it crowds out everything else. And drips a chemical on the ground that retards the sprouting of any seeds but its own.
Enough of that; here is a better view for TURKEY DAY! We are quite replete and gifted with leftovers for tomorrow. It was a great group with cousins, several sets of grandparents, and five hardworking cooks, plus S made his special pie. All I did was eat. We came home and had a nice long talk about some Thanksgivings of the Past. We have many memories at this point. When I was a child we often invited what I thought of as "loose people" who had moved away from their families to work in Schenectady.
The Past is such a curious Creature
to look her in the Face
a Transport may receipt us
or a Disgrace --
Unarmed if any meet her
I charge him fly
Her faded ammunition
Might yet reply.
--Emily Dickenson
That's a mysterious poem from Emily Dickenson; poems selected by Ted Hughes, page 41.
This is partly for Douglas; I don't quite understand it either.
I have to confess that I pumped this fellow's colors up a little bit; but they were all there!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING! And have a great weekend!
Enough of that; here is a better view for TURKEY DAY! We are quite replete and gifted with leftovers for tomorrow. It was a great group with cousins, several sets of grandparents, and five hardworking cooks, plus S made his special pie. All I did was eat. We came home and had a nice long talk about some Thanksgivings of the Past. We have many memories at this point. When I was a child we often invited what I thought of as "loose people" who had moved away from their families to work in Schenectady.
The Past is such a curious Creature
to look her in the Face
a Transport may receipt us
or a Disgrace --
Unarmed if any meet her
I charge him fly
Her faded ammunition
Might yet reply.
--Emily Dickenson
That's a mysterious poem from Emily Dickenson; poems selected by Ted Hughes, page 41.
This is partly for Douglas; I don't quite understand it either.
I have to confess that I pumped this fellow's colors up a little bit; but they were all there!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING! And have a great weekend!
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