By Robert Frost
As I went down the hill along the wall
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
(Oh, it was without prejudice to me!)
Afterward I went past what you had passed
Before we met, and you what I had passed.
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It poured for nearly 24 hours straight. I was woken up several times during the night by thunder, then rose to a very dark, rainy day. I spent the morning working on a review of Deep Space Nine's "The Quickening" and trying to recover from the glory that is Sharknado. Adam and my father were going to play tennis but it was raining much too hard, so they went out to lunch instead. Daniel was chatting live online with people playing Cube World until I dragged him down for lunch.
I did various work and chores, we had dinner with my parents, then we decided to watch The Patriot in spite of the Mel Gibson factor because the kids had never seen it and it also has Heath Ledger, Jason Isaacs, Tom Wilkinson and many other good actors. Both kids felt it was too long and suffers from the same problem as other Roland Emmerich historical films, namely WTF WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN. Some pics from the National Geographic Museum's 125th anniversary exhibit:
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