Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Frankie and Slim
Happy New Year
Saturday, May 26, 2007
SHE SAID
Mike, age 12 and Hope, age 4, are here for the weekend. Grandpa Ron was busy all day yesterday working outside. Hope went out with me to put the chickens up. She observed, "Grandpa has been gone all day. Is he at a motel or something?" LOL
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