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...

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Spooks?

Survivalblog has been offline for a few days now.  It's happened to Rawles' site before, but usually lasts only a day or so.

I'm not his biggest fan, for a number of reasons; but the site usually has some useful information to impart on a daily basis, and I do like his monetary views.

Rawles makes no attempt to hide his contempt for TPTB.

(Photo:  B.W. Carlisle)
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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"