More Michael, More Mess
Just doing my part to straighten out the spin...
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Just doing my part to straighten out the spin...
Fatal shopping trip assessment: “My heart was in the right place.”
I don’t have many New Year’s traditions, but this is one of my favorites. I read this poem to myself every December 31. I love its sense of hope.
RING OUT, WILD BELLS, by Tennyson
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Fine old Christmas, with the snowy hair and ruddy face, had done his duty that year in the noblest fashion, and had set off his rich gifts of warmth and color with all the heightening contrast of frost and snow.
From A Christmas Carol:
``Let me leave it alone, then,'' said Scrooge. ``Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!''
Organized by month, because it means I only have to do one a month, and keeps the list down to 12.
These people make my head hurt.
One of this year's happy book finds was "Jennie June's American Cookery Book," copyright 1878. It's the only book I own that can teach me how to carve a prairie hen or make a cheap barn paint (six pounds of melted pitch, 1 pint of linseed oil and 1 pound of brick dust or yellow ochre).
I admit it—I have a few personal Christmas traditions that other people might find odd. I collect bird ornaments, I only eat peppermint ice cream when it’s in season (December through about February), and I actually like Christmas music.