No News is Good News

It's been rather slow lately, and there really isn't anything new to report. David is settling in and killing some time before he can really get down to business. It's been great now that he has his phone, internet, AND snail mail, even if they don't let him have Hulu or YouTube. I've been up to my neck in Halloween candy and tacky decorations at work. The life-size skeleton butler with pipes for legs was a bit much. The overall theme this year is the Skelanimals; I liked it better last year when Domo was king. The rumor is that the Christmas lights get set next week, sneaking in on the back wall behind all the other fourth quarter seasonal madness.

The wedding is on track, so far as we know. There still remains some paperwork to clear, but it's being dealt with in due time. Invitations are still en route, leaving the house in waves, about as many as will fit in a ziplock bag I can grab before work in the morning and drop off on the way home. The recommended hotels, driving directions, and all other such useful information included in the invitation (and some that isn't) will also be posted here and linked to the sidebar for future reference. The registry has been edited and streamlined for what must be the tenth time. This imminent cross-country move is already giving me a headache.

Oh, and I bought an iron yesterday. So, just in case anyone was thinking of gifting us one, that's all right; we're covered. :)

A Valediction Forbidding Mourning

by John Donne

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
and whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
Men rekon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the shperes,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
-- Whose soul is sense -- cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

A Trinity

by Hilaire Belloc

Of three in One and One in three
My narrow mind would doubting be,
Till Beauty, Grace and Kindness met
And all at once were Juliet.