How Do I Love Thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

 

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Song

John Donne.
1573–1631

GO and catch a falling star,

  Get with child a mandrake root,

Tell me where all past years are,

  Or who cleft the Devil’s foot;

Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

Or to keep off envy’s stinging,

        And find

        What wind

Serves to advance an honest mind.

 

If thou be’st born to strange sights,

  Things invisible to see,

Ride ten thousand days and nights

  Till Age snow white hairs on thee;

Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell me

All strange wonders that befell thee,

        And swear

        No where

Lives a woman true and fair.

 

If thou find’st one, let me know;

  Such a pilgrimage were sweet.

Yet do not; I would not go,

  Though at next door we might meet.

Though she were true when you met her,

And last till you write your letter,

        Yet she

        Will be

False, ere I come, to two or three.

 

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What a pain!

Got up this morning at 4 AM so I could go to the fitness center before work.

Generally, before I leave I check a few things on line and maybe update a file or two and then make it in time to start working out by 5:30.

Not today! Started having messages about running out of virtual memory and the allocated space being increased — and then my Microsoft FrontPage wouldn’t load.

After dinking around with it for a while, I finally left K a note, “Computer is having problems! Seems to be a problem with memory.”

Made it to the firtness center by 6:15, had a really good work-out, was only an hour late getting to work. (Not a problem – but that’s another story.)

Called K a lttle bit later to chat, but really wanted to find out if she had had any problems with the computer — and everything had worked just fine for her — no problems.

Left work a little early so I could get home to try to figure out what was wrong. Got home 3 1/2 hours ago and I’m just now to the point where I know what I need to do, even if I don’t know what caused the problem.

FrontPage wouldn’t work.

I ran Norton SystemWorks checks and it fixed a number of errors and FrontPage still wouldn’t work.

I ran the FrontPage installation CD and used the option to fix the current installation and FrontPage still wouldn’t work.

I used the option to reinstall FrontPage over the existing installation — FrontPage wouldn’t work.

I completely unistalled FrontPage and reinstalled it, shut the machine completely down, restarted it — and, you guessed it FrontPage still would not work.

At supper, I decided I would try one more thing. I went to a user account on the machine that I had set up a year or so ago to try something out with, started up FrontPage…. and it worked!

I use FrontPage a lot, enough that if I can’t get it to work on my regular account on this computer I will be moving everything over to this new account that I’m working from right now.

And, of course, K didn’t have any problems earlier because the issue seems to be with my account on this machine and not hers, plus she doesn’t use FrontPage.

Stupid computers!


Post from one of my abandoned blogs – North Farnham Freeholder – recovered from Internet Archive WayBackMachine; March 2011


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To Her Sea-faring Lover.

Tottel’s Miscellany.
by John Heywood.

Anonymous.
1557

SHALL I thus ever long, and be no whit the neare?

And shall I still complain to thee, the which me will not hear?

  Alas! say nay! say nay! and be no more so dumb,

But open thou thy manly mouth and say that thou wilt come:

  Whereby my heart may think, although I see not thee,

That thou wilt come—thy word so sware—if thou a live man be.

  The roaring hugy waves they threaten my poor ghost,

And toss thee up and down the seas in danger to be lost.

  Shall they not make me fear that they have swallowed thee?

—But as thou art most sure alive, so wilt thou come to me.

  Whereby I shall go see thy ship ride on the strand,

And think and sayLo where he comes andSure here will he land:

  And then I shall lift up to thee my little hand,

And thou shalt think thine heart in ease, in health to see me stand.

  And if thou come indeed (as Christ thee send to do!)

Those arms which miss thee now shall then embrace [and hold = thee too:

  Each vein to every joint the lively blood shall spread

Which now for want of thy glad sight doth show full pale and dead.

  But if thou slip thy troth, and do not come at all,

As minutes in the clock do strike so call for death I shall:

  To please both thy false heart and rid myself from woe,

That rather had to die in troth than live forsaken so!

 

Glossary:  

neare = nearer.

 

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To Mr. Lawrence

John Milton.
1608 – 1674

LAWRENCE of vertuous Father vertuous Son,

  Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,

  Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire

  Help wast a sullen day; what may be won

From the hard Season gaining: time will run

  On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire

  The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire

  The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow’d nor spun.

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,

  Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise

  To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice

Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?

  He who of those delights can judge, and spare

  To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

 

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When he retires….

On Saturday, we were taking a walk along a nearby lake and the subject of my retirement came up, as it often does since it is drawing closer and we are making plans.

K told me that the topic of retirement had come up at one of her quilting meetings.

One of the ladies had told her, “When he retires, you’ll get your boyfriend back.”

Another older lady commented, “We’ve been married for over six years. When we were dating all he could talk about was all the traveling we’d do. He really wanted to spend some time traveling about Europe. Now that he’s retired, though, I can’t even get him to get up out of that damned chair, much less take a trip.


Post from one of my abandoned blogs – North Farnham Freeholder – recovered from Internet Archive WayBackMachine; March 2011


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Werena my Heart’s licht I wad dee

Lady Grisel Baillie.
1665–1746

THERE ance was a may, and she lo’ed na men;

She biggit her bonnie bow’r doun in yon glen;

But now she cries, Dool and a well-a-day!

Come doun the green gait and come here away!

 

When bonnie young Johnnie cam owre the sea,

He said he saw naething sae lovely as me;

He hecht me baith rings and mony braw things—

And werena my heart’s licht, I wad dee.

 

He had a wee titty that lo’ed na me,

Because I was twice as bonnie as she;

She raised sic a pother ‘twixt him and his mother

That werena my heart’s licht, I wad dee.

 

The day it was set, and the bridal to be:

The wife took a dwam and lay doun to dee;

She maned and she graned out o’ dolour and pain,

Till he vow’d he never wad see me again.

 

His kin was for ane of a higher degree,

Said—What had he do wi’ the likes of me?

Appose I was bonnie, I wasna for Johnnie—

And werena my heart’s licht, I wad dee.

 

They said I had neither cow nor calf,

Nor dribbles o’ drink rins thro’ the draff,

Nor pickles o’ meal rins thro’ the mill-e’e—

And werena my heart’s licht, I wad dee.

 

His titty she was baith wylie and slee:

She spied me as I cam owre the lea;

And then she ran in and made a loud din—

Believe your ain e’en, an ye trow not me.

 

His bonnet stood ay fu’ round on his brow,

His auld ane look’d ay as well as some’s new:

But now he lets ‘t wear ony gait it will hing,

And casts himsel dowie upon the corn bing.

 

And now he gaes daund’ring about the dykes,

And a’ he dow do is to hund the tykes:

The live-lang nicht he ne’er steeks his e’e—

And werena my heart’s licht, I wad dee.

 

Were I but young for thee, as I hae been,

We should hae been gallopin’ doun in yon green,

And linkin’ it owre the lily-white lea—

And wow, gin I were but young for thee!

  

GLOSSARY:

may = maid.

biggit = built.

gait = way, path.

hecht = promised.

titty = sister.

dwam = sudden illness.

appose = suppose.

pickles = small quantities.

hing = hang.

dowie = dejectedly.

hund the tykes = direct the dogs.

steeks = closes.

linkin = tripping.

 

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Retirement — Maybe!

This time next year I hope to without a job, intentionally. In February, I’ll be 55 and old enough for early retirement.

In my group of 12 employees, there are 5 who are 55 or older — and I am the youngest. All of the others are either 55 or close enough to it to be able to file the retirement paperwork. Three could go at any minute. However, despite being the youngest, I may be the first of the five to actually do it.

It’s a big step, for all of us. We’ve all worked since the early 70s for just two employers — the US Navy and our current company. After working so long, taking the step of leaving and going into retirement, even if you’ve saved enough to do it, is a significant change — and it can be scary.

“I can’t afford to yet.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do if I’m not working.”
“I’ll retire when I find another job. I can’t not work.”
“We have too many bills.”
“It just isn’t going to work out the way that I thought it would.”

Martha Brockenbrough, in How to Tell If You Like Your Job … And How to Start Over If You Don’t, says, “If you don’t love what you do and look forward to doing it, that means you are condemning yourself to a life of discontent. It’s not that every moment at work has to be the best moment ever. As with anything, even the ideal job has its challenges and frustrations. But if you’re just putting in time, waiting for retirement or some other milestone to really live your life, you’re in trouble. ”

I used to really love what I do. However, mergers and standardization and many of the other things that make good business sense for the stockholders have taken away most of the fun. It got so bad last year that, had I not been so close to retirement, I would have quit. While things are not so bad this year, the underlying conditions still exist, so the right thing to do, for me, is to retire as soon as I can.

Rita Schwab, in Career Choices – Taking Time To Dream, says “Being scared of change is okay. Allowing that fear to close your mind to other possibilities is not.”

Retiring is a big step — the ultimate career change — but given that the fun is gone, I can’t afford to stay much past the day I’m 55. I may not be able to fully retire, but I can afford to take at least a year off before finding something else. Finding something to do is not a problem. I’ve got more than enough to keep me busy. I have a lot of things I want to do and, when those are done, other things will find me.

Three years from now, I may not be retired, but it won’t be for the lack of giving it a chance.

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News

Thomas Traherne.
1637–1674

    NEWS from a foreign country came

As if my treasure and my wealth lay there;

    So much it did my heart inflame,

‘Twas wont to call my Soul into mine ear;

        Which thither went to meet

            The approaching sweet,

        And on the threshold stood

    To entertain the unknown Good.

            It hover’d there

        As if ‘twould leave mine ear,

    And was so eager to embrace

      The joyful tidings as they came,

    ‘Twould almost leave its dwelling-place

        To entertain that same.

 

    As if the tidings were the things,

My very joys themselves, my foreign treasure—

    Or else did bear them on their wings—

With so much joy they came, with so much pleasure.

        My Soul stood at that gate

            To recreate

        Itself with bliss, and to

    Be pleased with speed. A fuller view

            It fain would take,

        Yet journeys back would make

    Unto my heart; as if ‘twould fain

      Go out to meet, yet stay within

    To fit a place to entertain

        And bring the tidings in.

 

    What sacred instinct did inspire

My soul in childhood with a hope so strong?

    What secret force moved my desire

To expect my joys beyond the seas, so young?

        Felicity I knew

            Was out of view,

        And being here alone,

    I saw that happiness was gone

            From me! For this

        I thirsted absent bliss,

    And thought that sure beyond the seas,

      Or else in something near at hand—

    I knew not yet—since naught did please

        I knew—my Bliss did stand.

 

    But little did the infant dream

That all the treasures of the world were by:

    And that himself was so the cream

And crown of all which round about did lie.

        Yet thus it was: the Gem,

            The Diadem,

        The ring enclosing all

    That stood upon this earthly ball,

            The Heavenly eye,

        Much wider than the sky,

    Wherein they all included were,

      The glorious Soul, that was the King

    Made to possess them, did appear

        A small and little thing!

 

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Grief

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
1806 – 1861

I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;

  That only men incredulous of despair,

  Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air

Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access

Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness

  In souls as countries lieth silent-bare

  Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare

Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express

Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death—

  Most like a monumental statue set

In everlasting watch and moveless woe

Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.

  Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:

If it could weep, it could arise and go.

 

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