Honey, grow old with me...

Honey, grow old with me...
April 17th, was our 46th anniversary, thanks God

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

WOW! THOSE BOYS ARE REALLY HOT...

WAY TO GO BOYS!
YOU ALL ARE DOING SO GOOD!
AND LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE ENJOYING DOING IT!
34-20
keep up the good work,
and enjoy yourselves!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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TODAY WAS THE FIRST DAY OF AUTUMN!
Come on, might as well get on the bandwagon,
it is going to be autumn, then winter no matter what!
As the Lord sees fit, so shall the weather be!
Genesis 1:14And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament
of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them
be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years:
Daniel 2:21 And he changeth the times and the seasons: he removeth kings,
and setteth up kings: he giveth wisdom unto the wise,
and knowledge to them that know understanding:
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To Autumn
William Blake (from Poetical Sketches, 1783)
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
“The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.
“The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
—While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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Acts 1:7And he said unto them, It is not for you to know the
times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power.
Acts 14:17Nevertheless he left not himself without witness, in that he did
good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts
with food and gladness.

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