By Edward Hirsch
Let's not forget the General
Shuffling out in his gray slippers
To feed the pigeons in Logan Square.
He wore a battered White Sox cap
And a heavy woolen scarf tossed
Over his shoulder, even in summer.
I remember how he muttered to himself
And coughed into his newspaper
And complained about his gout
To the other Latvian exiles,
The physicist who lived on Gogol Street
In Riga, my grandfather's hometown,
The auxiliary policeman from Daugavpils,
And the chemical engineer,
Who always gave me hard candy,
Though grandfather spit
And grandmother hurried me away
When she saw them coming.
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Wednesday was about as uneventful as Tuesday. Again Paul worked from home, Adam worked in a neighbor's yard in the morning, had cross country in the afternoon and driver's ed in the evening, Daniel slept as late as we would let him (it's his last week of freedom before returning to college). I got work done and laundry folded, woo hoo.
The sky turned very dark in the late afternoon and there was some mighty thunder, but not a huge amount of rain -- I walked through some of it and the bunnies were more upset about the noise than the drizzle. After dinner I watched the DS9 two-parter I need to review this week, then we all watched the Vegas episode of Futurama. Here are photos from the Virginia Zoo several days ago:
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