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    CHEERFUL-ALT-3   14,568
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Day 7 atkins and a rainy garden

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Getting a little more energy each day. Head is much clearer today.

Making this for dinner: www.eat-drink-smile.com/
2011/04/cauliflower-crust-
pizza.html


Haven't told DH what's in it, just that it's an experiment :)

Got up to go walking this morning and it has been pouring rain all day..again. My poor garden is water logged.


The Summer Rain

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.

Plutarch was good, and so was Homer too,
Our Shakespeare's life were rich to live again,
What Plutarch read, that was not good nor true,
Nor Shakespeare's books, unless his books were men.



Here while I lie beneath this walnut bough,
What care I for the Greeks or for Troy town,
If juster battles are enacted now
Between the ants upon this hummock's crown?

Bid Homer wait till I the issue learn,
If red or black the gods will favor most,
Or yonder Ajax will the phalanx turn,
Struggling to heave some rock against the host.

Tell Shakespeare to attend some leisure hour,
For now I've business with this drop of dew,
And see you not, the clouds prepare a shower--
I'll meet him shortly when the sky is blue.

This bed of herd's grass and wild oats was spread
Last year with nicer skill than monarchs use.
A clover tuft is pillow for my head,
And violets quite overtop my shoes.

And now the cordial clouds have shut all in,
And gently swells the wind to say all's well;
The scattered drops are falling fast and thin,
Some in the pool, some in the flower-bell.

I am well drenched upon my bed of oats;
But see that globe come rolling down its stem,
Now like a lonely planet there it floats,
And now it sinks into my garment's hem.

Drip drip the trees for all the country round,
And richness rare distills from every bough;
The wind alone it is makes every sound,
Shaking down crystals on the leaves below.



For shame the sun will never show himself,
Who could not with his beams e'er melt me so;
My dripping locks--they would become an elf,
Who in a beaded coat does gayly go.
Henry David Thoreau
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  Member Comments About This Blog Post:

CHEERFUL-ALT-3 7/28/2013 12:43PM

    yup, that's my wet garden!

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2HAMSDIET 7/28/2013 12:34AM

    I use to make a zucchini crusted pizza that my kids still tease me about. I loved it and they would just roll there eyes. emoticon

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GWTRIKER 7/27/2013 10:57PM

    Very nice plants. Are they pics of your garden?

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