Margaret’s Song

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  There was a king in Thule,  True even to the grave;  To whom his dying mistress  A golden beaker gave.  At every feast he drained it,  Naught was to him so dear,  And often as he drained it,  Gush’d from his eyes the tear.  When death came, unrepining  His cities o’er he told;  All to his heir resigning,  Except his cup of gold.  With many a knightly vassal  At a royal feast sat he,  In yon proud hall ancestral,  In his castle o’er the sea.  Up stood the jovial monarch,  And quaff’d his last life’s glow,  Then hurled the hallow’d goblet  Into the flood below.  He saw it splashing, drinking,  And plunging in the sea;  His eyes meanwhile were sinking,  And never again drank he. “Margaret’s Song” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) in “Faust. Part I.”

Today I Am Crafting . . .

. . . drinking glasses from old bottles. Real manly stuff.

Using string, acetone and FIRE (ha HA!) I have already "popped the top" off of some bottles and am working on sanding the rims down to make matching drinking glasses.

Here's a tutorial, if interested. Note: Get that string/yarn soaked well and let the fuel burn by turning the bottle. The glass will most likely break above or below the string--sometimes both. So be careful! And make sure that water stays ICY!

Quite fun!

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