Head-dibs

 Many blessings on this Thanksgiving Day!

Baby boy got married! Our oldest boy (Jonathan) was his best man and two sisters were bridesmaids. So proud of William and Kayla!

On the way to Indiana to see my youngest boy get married. Drove a portion of I-40 I’ve never been on before and couldn’t help but think that if I just kept going, would end up in God’s country.  Just want to say that Kentucky seems to have a sense of humor. There’s a town called Paint Lick. 

 

Ok, so I had a head start. Was going for Hemingway but looking more like Lazar Wolf (the Butcher in “Fiddler On The Roof”).

  When biting Boreas, fell and doure,   Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;  When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,           Far south the lift,  Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky show'r,           Or whirling drift:  Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,  Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,  While burns, wi' snawy wreeths upchoked,           Wild-eddying swirl,  Or thro' the mining outlet bocked,           Down headlong hurl.  List'ning, the doors an' winnocks rattle,  I thought me on the ourie cattle,  Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle           O' winter war,  And thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle,           Beneath a scar.  Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing!  That, in the merry months o' spring,  Delighted me to hear thee sing,           What comes o' thee?  Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing           An' close thy e'e?  Ev'n you on murd'ring errands toil'd,  Lone from y