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,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Slim and Franke
Happy New Year
Monday, August 22, 2016
GRANDPARENTS CABIN AGE 10
Question Of The Week 8-22-16
If you could be any age again for one week, what age would you be and what would you do that week?
I'm not sure I'd want to go back, although if I did I'd see my
Dad again, as I miss him terribly. Maybe when we all used to go as a
family at Centre Parcs, so not too far back really. Maybe when I was 35.
I'd be 17, and I'd tell that boy that, hell no! I didn't want to
go on a date with him, and I didn't want to follow him down to that
expensive private college. I'd stay home and go to the local community
college and marry someone capable of loving me. That's what I'd do.
I'd be in my late twenties, and the kids, the Cowman, and I would
again be living in the back of beyond of Oregon. Riding through cattle
every day, fishing, building a teepee on the lawn, and just loving life.