Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Saturday, September 08, 2007


Kurzer Sommer, gluehender, blieb! Dein Anhauch
Zwar verdrisst das aengstliched Gras. Das Korn doch
Liebt dich, der sich roetende Wein, die Grille
Sint dir ein Loblied.

Und die Lerche, die in das Blaue klettert,
Tut es trillernd, dir zu gefallen, und der Wilde Klatschohn hat eine Bluete wie ein
Feuriger Juhschrei.

In den kuehlen, glainzenden Naechten richtet
Sich das gruene Gras wieder auf. Die Schnecke
Wandert durch das taunasse Land und sieht nicht
Oben die Sterne:

Ihren Fuelern sind sie entrueckt. Sie kriecht, und
Fuerchtet, wie die Kroete im schwarzen Holweg,
Wie der Salamander im Sumpf den suessen,
Rosigen Morgen.

-Geog Britting
Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Game Day

This was a Packer exhibition day game. My family is all merged into this photo. The two people in front? Who knows, they both leaned over so that we could get the whole family and friends in there. Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


My Grandpa used to say that weeds are just flowers misplaced. They are something to enjoy and wonder about.

I'm not sure which variety of thistle this is but here are my options:

Platte thistle, Canadian thistle, Wavyleaf thistle, Musk thistle, Bull thistle, Field thistle, Scotch thistle, Tall thistle, Yellow Star thistle, Italian thistle, and the Plumeless thistle

The fuzz of thistles has been collected to stuff pillows and the oil of the seeds were used to burn and cook with. The thistle has been used to treat some cancers and ulcers.
A single musk thistle plant can produce up to 20,000 seeds. Those seeds can stay in the soil up to seven years and grow again.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

The Haying Song

Now it's the season of
clover and killdeer,

And it's the time when
the does the best

It's when all men are

And the work days are

And you know when to
rise and you know when to rest.

In the cool of the
evening I perch on the load,
And let the wagon wind
blow through my hair,

Count off the stars
and talk to the moon,

Sing to myself in the
sweet summer air,

Hang on at the corners
and duck from the branches,

And sing to myself in
the sweet summer air.

-an excerpt from the poem by David Mallett, "The Haying Song"

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

a little poem about sparrows

Little sparrows take over two trees,
Keepers of the yard.
Intelligent perchers,
Seeing all, feeling all.
When do they decide to fly?