Studying Keats

It's a gray day, the Indiana gray that makes us all begin to deteriorate until Spring arrives. I've been writing a lot lately, 3 stories per day for my project. I love working! My hair has to be in a ponytail when I write, like the girl on Harry Potter. It helps me think, pulls out the ideas.

The house is quiet, and I've settled with a cup of green tea, and some Keats. I once knew Keats, I believe. I was once more romantic.

How many bards gild the lapses of time!
A few of them have ever been the food
Of my delighted fancy,—I could brood
Over their beauties, earthly or sublime:
And often, when I sit me down to rhyme,
These will in throngs before my mind intrude:
But no intrusion, no disturbance rude
Do they occasion; 'tis is a pleasing chime.
So the unnumber'd sounds that evening store
The song of birds—the whispering of the leaves—
The voice of waters—the great bell that heaves
With solemn sound—and thousand others more,
That distance of recognizance bereaves,
Making pleasing music, and not wild uproar.

Boyhood Games

We had to fill out a sheet at Sam's school that his teacher posted on the bulletin board. It included our favorite foods, places we like to travel and things we like to "play." A lot of the other kids' moms wrote things like "Tag," "Get You," and "Hide-n-Seek."

Our list was similar, because I couldn't bring myself to list our real games:

Kill All the Bad Guys
Shoot the Enemy Dead
Gross You Out
I Think I Can Do This
Jump and Crash
Let Me Go

I swear we're good parents, I swear.