Can This Be Spring?

I get up and it is a truly beautiful day. The sky is blue, the sea is blue, Eskimo Nell. Such joy has to be tempered by misery and the balance is provided by a morning trip to the dentist for more root canal madness. The drive over is full of beauty.

Yes, that is cherry blossom. It must be Spring - on 23 January? Okinawa is a very destabilizing place.

Yes, that is cherry blossom.
It must be Spring – on 23 January? Okinawa is a very destabilizing place.

I then check into a fish market in Yomitan.

My father don't like it my brother don't like it My sister don't like it my mother don't like it Come a little baby let's jump the broomstick come and let's tie the knot

My father don’t like it my brother don’t like it
My sister don’t like it my mother don’t like it
Come a little baby let’s jump the broomstick come and let’s tie the knot

I always throw Parrot Fish back on the grounds that they are too beautiful to eat.

I always throw Parrot Fish back on the grounds that they are too beautiful to eat.

After a lovely drive God evens things up at the dentist.

When did you last see your Father?

When did you last see your Father?

Anyway I paid the happiness debt and having been at work I then came home on a very beautiful evening.

January Sunset

January Sunset

5 minutes ago from the roof.

5 minutes ago from the roof.

It is the mixture of misery and pain and happiness and joy that makes life, er:

real, fun, it, antidisestablishmentarian, enjoyable, satisfactory.

 

 

 

 

 

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3 Responses to Can This Be Spring?

  1. Ian Calder says:

    On Burns’ Night, one reflects again on the relative happiness of mice and men. Toujours gai old bean.

  2. Is there for honest Poverty
    That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
    The coward slave-we pass him by,
    We dare be poor for a’ that!
    For a’ that, an’ a’ that.
    Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
    The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
    The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

    What though on hamely fare we dine,
    Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that;
    Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
    A Man’s a Man for a’ that:
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that;
    The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor,
    Is king o’ men for a’ that.

    Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
    Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that;
    Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
    He’s but a coof for a’ that:
    For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
    His ribband, star, an’ a’ that:
    The man o’ independent mind
    He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.

    A prince can mak a belted knight,
    A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that;
    But an honest man’s abon his might,
    Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that!
    For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
    Their dignities an’ a’ that;
    The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth,
    Are higher rank than a’ that.

    Then let us pray that come it may,
    (As come it will for a’ that,)
    That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,
    Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that.
    For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
    It’s coming yet for a’ that,
    That Man to Man, the world o’er,
    Shall brothers be for a’ that.

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