Today was a lazy, warm summer day. No rain. Sun shining bright. I recalled a handful of pictures of swings in the archives. And I recalled Robert Louis Stevenson:
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
A Grab Bag of Links: You may recall that a few days ago, an oldtimer posted a query about the Cornet store closing. I've now heard from a former employee of Cornet who tells a bit of its history here (scroll down to the last couple of posts.) We have a big election coming up; Jib-Jab has its own take on the whole bloody affair. And a PhotoShop job on Iranian missiles was recently in the news; naturally, the Iranian picture is being further PhotoShopped all over the place. Finally, a huge, linkable list of nature blogs and bloggers.
Nice lazy day post.
ReplyDeletesteve -- yes, I was truly lazy; besides, I suddenly have a serious article to write, which means less time for the old blog.
ReplyDeleteI once had that poem memorized! We had a swing set in the backyard, plus the swings at school. As a kid, how I loved to recite that poem as my legs pumped the swing seat higher and higher!
ReplyDelete(BTW, gorgeous flower post yesterday! It's worth some kind of prize.)
~Anon in AV.
Oh, my, I hadn't seen JibJab's latest. I loved the Disney-esque ponies and unicorns and flowers for Barack!
ReplyDeleteanon av -- My mom recited that poem to me (and others by RL Stevenson) when I was very young. And she remembered it in her last year, too!
ReplyDeletedotter -- hey! glad you liked it.
Your mom had great taste in poets!
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice tribute to her, then, is this post, Granny J! :-)
~Anon in AV.
anon av -- yes, in its way, it is a tribute to Mom & her love for poetry of the older kind. Hers was, I believe, the last generation, that memorized many, many poems, which gave her pleasure throughout her life. I suspect that we more modern folk are missing something there!
ReplyDelete