Sounds of the WinterBy Walt Whitman
Sounds of the winter too,
Sunshine upon the mountains-many a distant strain
From cheery railroad train-from nearer field, barn, house
The whispering air-even the mute crops, garner'd apples, corn,
Children's and women's tones-rhythm of many a farmer and of flail,
And old man's garrulous lips among the rest, Think not we give out yet,Forth from these snowy hairs we keep up yet the lilt.
I woke up on Friday with my back really killing me, which makes me very unhappy because I so do not want a replay of my month of agony from last year when I couldn't sit for any period of time including in a car to drive places. Advil and heat helps but only so much. I had plans to go see Aquaman
with my cat-sitter neighbor, but she was sick, so I did what chores I could with my back killing me and went to CVS to get more Advil and Ben-Gay. My unhelpful cat threw up all over the carpet, requiring a lot of kneeling and scrubbing.
We had dinner with my parents, then came home for this week's Blindspot
, which I liked a lot -- I've missed Jane being Jane -- then the Madam Secretary
episode that we missed on Sunday, which I liked as well, both politically (would that we had that kind of a White House) and in terms of the characters (man, I hope Téa and Tim don't break up while the show is running). Plus we watched the first episode of Tidelands
, which was pretty and strange. From National Harbor, here is the very colorful Peeps and Company store: