we had pancakes this morning . .
along with our sunday poem which was robert burns' to a mouse:
to a mouse
to a mouse
on turning her up in her nest with the plough,
november, 1785
wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
o, what a panic's in thy breastie!
thou need na start awa sae hasty,
wi' bickering brattle!
i wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
wi' murdering pattle!
i'm truly sorry man's dominion
has broken nature's social union,
an' justifies that ill opinion
which makes thee startle
at me, thy poor, earth-born companion
an' fellow-mortal!
i doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
what then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
a daimen-icker in a thrave
's a sma' requet;
i'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
an' never miss't!
thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
its silly wa's the win's are strewin!
an' naething, now, to big a new ane,
o' foggage green!
an' bleak december's win's ensuing,
baith snell an' keen!
thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
an' weary Winter comin fast,
an' cozie here, beneath the blast,
thou thought to dwell,
till crash! the cruel coulter past
out thro' thy cell.
that wee bit heap o' leaves and stibble,
has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
now thou's turned out, for a' thy trouble,
but house or hald,
to thole the winter's sleety dribble,
an' cranreuch cauld!
but mousie, thou art no thy lane,
in proving foresight may be in vain:
the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
gang aft agley,
an' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
for promis'd joy!
still thou are blest, compared wi' me!
the present only toucheth thee:
but Och! i backward cast my e'e,
on prospects drear!
an' forward, tho' I cannot see,
i guess an' fear!
discussing the line "of mice and men . . "
chanda dusted off the piano and we fixed up our nature table.
martinmas is almost upon us . .
i've been wanting to do this for weeks so it felt good to finally accomplish it.
afterwards, i walked with chanda to her dance rehearsal at the mary anthony studio.
mary's cat lounging on the divan . .
oh! well, if you're going to take my picture . .
so many mementoes . . mary anthony passed away just this year. she was 97 years old.
in front of the desk is a picture of jose limon in the moor's pavane.
she only just retired from teaching last year. she was an amazing woman and you can read a little bit about her in a new york times article here (i like the photograph they include).
it was cold walking home this evening, so it was good to get back to a warm apartment. we had a nice dinner together of carrots, potatoes and a pork roast.














































