The Quiet Life
By Alexander Pope
Happy the man whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breath his native air
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
I did chores in the morning, finished a review of Voyager's "Message in a Bottle", dropped Maddy off at the salon to get her hair dyed, and drove northwest with Paul to go on the Countryside Artisans' winter tour:
One of the resident cats at Art of Fire greets visitors while students learn glassblowing.
Some of the studio's ornaments hang on their Christmas tree.
Goats greet visitors to Something Earthy pottery studio.
I am partial to their Maryland crab and sea turtle items.
The beautiful yarn at Dancing Leaf Farm...
...is made from the wool of the resident sheep, who also keep the grass trimmed!
The Montgomery Potters show is held at Garrett Park's town hall, not near Sugarloaf Mountain, but we went there, too.
And after lunch at Lebanese Taverna, we stopped at World Market for holiday foods. These are, of course, not handmade like the other crafts on this page, but they're still cute.
Maddy had to work in the evening, so she took her pink hair to the movie theater while we had dinner with my parents. We've spent the rest of the evening watching Washington dominate Colorado in the Pac-12 championship.