Going to try again...
Will be posting about my life with Brad and our two dogs (Kaiser and Jasper) here in eastern Canada. Brad and I have been a couple for 17+ years. Ça passe vite!
Me, I'm 46. I like to cook, travel, read, walk dogs, and think of things for Brad to do. A guilty pleasure is watching Coronation Street and Survivor. I also like to watch basketball - Go Raps! I work as a translator (French to English) and hope to retire within the next decade. The photo in my profile was taken at "The Idiot" restaurant in Saint Petersburg, Russia, in the fall of 2006, when we had a great trip to Sweden and Russia. The restaurant was a haunt of Dostoyevsky back in the day, so the place is now named after one of his novels.
We are going to Italy this spring with 4 of our good friends (2 straight couples). We are renting a villa in Tuscany for a week and tacking on a few days on either end of that. So I suspect I'll be posting about that as our plans progress. I'll have some recipies, some stories, and perhaps a few pics of handsome guys thrown in for good measure.
Please come in, and welcome!
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For Once, then, Something (by Robert Frost)
Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
My myself in the summer heaven, godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
My myself in the summer heaven, godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
6 comments:
Oh. My. Gawd... I wondered how long it would take before you would finally start blogging! Yay!
And holy crap! Has it already been 17 years? Seems like yesterday that you two went to London to celebrate your 10th. Time does fly...
Hey bello! Glad you found me and dropped by!
17 years and counting... Freakin' role models, eh! :-)
Lovely profile Jeffrey but you really should have had me write it. ;)
P.
Dearest P, (P. is for Possum, right?)
I may take you up on that offer yet! Second thought.... Maybe not.
P.S. I'm going to have to send a link to this blog to the Boy in Spain!
Ahhh my Possum, I miss you so. (you too Jeff...saw you guys all too briefly summer past).
Spanadian.
Too brief indeed...I don't care much for Possum...
Take care Spanadian (Sounds like luncheon meat)
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