Life

[ehowton]

I was driving into work this morning remembering when my children liked nothing more than being pulled around the acreage in Texas in their little red wagon. It was very boring for me to cart them around the house and around the backyard in their wagon, but they really enjoyed it, so that's what I did. Today, I really missed the simplicity of that. I never thought I'd be one of those parents who 'looked back' with fondness & longing. I guess I was wrong.

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I was at work late yesterday, so for giggles I booted the UX280P with my external laptop drive installation of kubuntu via USB. It made my naughty-bits tingle logging in. How very cool. Of course with the tether to the external drive, its functionality becomes greatly limited (unless I were to install it directly to the device) but way fun anyway - ubuntu handles wireless very well, and it was just fun to play with it, despite that I had nothing really to do with it once it was up and running.

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During photogoot's visit, he was on a quest to photograph the arch. I stumbled upon this photograph of me quite by accident on his pbase photography site. I was likely trying to photograph him shooting the arch. It was during this part of the trip we were actually standing on the top-deck of the Casino Queen in zero-degree weather on a very windy night, accentuated by being elevated right on on the water.

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[schpydurx.livejournal.com]

When apples still grow in November
When blossoms still bloom from each tree,
When leaves are still green in December,
It's then that our land will be free.
I wander her hills and her valleys,
And still through my sorrow I see
A land that has never known freedom
And only her rivers run free.

I drink to the death of her manhood,
Those men who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage,
To bring back their rights were denied.
Oh were are you now when we need you,
What burns where the flame used to be,
Are ye gone like the snows of last winter,
And will only our rivers run free.

How sweet is life but we're crying
How mellow the wine that were dry,
How fragrant the rose,but it's dying,
How gentle the wind but it sighs.
What good is in youth when it's aging,
What joy is in eyes that can't see,
When there's sorrow and sunshine and flowers,
And still only our rivers run free.