The Garden Year
By Sara Coleridge
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots, and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
Was doing ten things this evening so had no time to write a journal entry, and now Dreamwidth is being strange, so I shall be very brief. Paul worked from home, we had lunch together, I posted a review of Deep Space Nine's better-than-I-used-to-think-it-was-but-s
We came home and all four of us watched Nikita, which was waaaay too Zero Dark Thirty for my taste. Then, after Maddy went home, we watched Scoop, which had been on my list of Woody Allen Movies I Just Didn't Want To See -- I have major issues with recent Woody Allen for reasons I am sure I have documented here before -- but Delta loaned it to me and I decided to give it a pass for Hugh Jackman, who was enjoyable in it though I am appalled to say that Woody Allen's character made us laugh the most, since he gave himself all the best lines ("I was born into the Hebrew persuasion, but at some point I converted to Narcissism"). Some Great Falls pics from a couple of weekends ago: