Borden whole milk is $5.35/gallon at Wal-Mart. Gas is at $3.17/gallon and climbing here in Laurel. The news this morning for the housing market is not good: home values are posting record declines. I'm afraid much of the equity we had in our home is eroding away as I type this.
We in our arrogance thought we could police the world; we believed the military-industrial complex when it told us that war is a necessary evil. Now the war machine is draining us of blood and treasure, with no end in sight.
In our blindness we thought that capitalism is best left unchecked; now the system is devouring itself.
If you're not a gardener, now might be a good time to look into it. That, along with livestock farming. A mule might be a good investment in the near future.
Reverend Wright is correct: the chickens are coming home to roost.
Wassail, traveler, and welcome to The Gable Grey -- a place of retreat, of renewal, and of resistance: a tree-shaded refuge in Dark Times. Now pass the threshold, and rest from journeys! For a cold wind is blowing; and here, if you wish, you may hear tidings of the world without...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Whiles carried o'er the iron road,
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.
-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.
-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"
No comments:
Post a Comment