By Solomon Ibn Gabirol
Translated by Peter Cole
I look for you early,
my rock and my refuge,
offering you worship
morning and night;
before your vastness
I come confused
and afraid for you see
the thoughts of my heart
What could the heart
and tongue compose,
or spirit’s strength
within me to suit you?
But song soothes you
and so I’ll give praise
to your being as long
as your breath-in-me moves.
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Happy Purim! Paul decided that we should celebrate, since we probably won't be able to leave the house on Thursday due to YET MORE SNOW, so he made (veggie beef) tzimmes for dinner and chocolate hamantaschen for dessert. This was the second part of a good dining day, since Kay and I realized that we were likely not to be able to meet for lunch later this week due to YET MORE SNOW so we went to Tara Thai today instead. I got too little exercise to compensate, though I did walk around the lake some to see the birds (geese, ducks, seagulls, even a coot) navigating the ice.
At home I folded laundry, read about everyone who wants Barbara Mikulski's seat, and debated with myself about whether I want to see Kingsman by watching the clips on Tumblr, which at this point must comprise 98% of the movie (thank you everyone for all the Mark Strong, but it is not helping me resist what is apparently a sexist, violent movie). After our tzimmes, we watched The 100, where Bad Things that Made Me Angry happened, and Nashville, where there was some nice music and nothing that will keep me up all night like The Americans happened. From last fall's Frederick Festival of the Farm:
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