O, for a booke and a shadie nooke
Eyther in-a-door or out,
With the grene leaves whisp’ring overhead
Or the Strete cries all about!
Where I maie read all at my ease
Both of the newe and old;
For a jolle goode booke whereon to looke
Is better to me than golde.
I hand copied this poem years ago on a little slip of yellow paper and just unearthed it in a desk drawer whose bottom had not seen daylight in a decade. Packing does have a way of helping things come to light. If you know me or my extended family, we ARE this poem.
Today is Friday so I babysit for Caleb, my 3 year old grandson. Every week we go to the library, the BIG playground, and the stream next door to "throw rocks in the water". What fun we have. We also bake something every week. Today it is to be brownies. We are making memories as I will see the boys much less once I move.