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...

Friday, July 5, 2013

Russia Today

I am still alive, and moreover have added a link to the Russian news site (Russia Today) to the right.

I left the link to increasingly useless, Qatari-owned Al Jazeera, as it can still be relied on to provide better news coverage than CNN.  Then again, so can jeditemplearchives.com, but...

Wassail, friends.  (I mean that.)

Photo:  B.W. Carlisle. (Montana, of course.)

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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"