By Thomas Nashe
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!
Spring, the sweet spring!
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Our Sunday plans changed a lot from what we had planned, though it ended up being almost all for the better! Adam decided to stay here after coming to dinner with his grandparents and uncle on Saturday night, so instead of going to Brookside Gardens to see the tulips on a day predicted to be very crowded because of an Earth Day event, we went to Frying Pan Farm Park to see the piglets, lambs, kids, and calves born recently. Then we went to Meadowlark Gardens to see the remaining cherry blossoms and daffodils plus the tulips and all the turtles, frogs, herons, geese, koi, and other animals. (Maddy had to work.)
Adam wanted to stay into the evening to see the season premiere of Westworld, so we picked up dinner on the way home -- Cava for me, California Tortilla for the men -- and we caught Adam up on some of the Last Week Tonight episodes he had missed (taxes, Russell Crowe's divorce auction) before Westworld started. There's a scene at the beginning that is really hard to watch (you are so evil, Luke Hemsworth, after I spent all of last season expecting you to turn out to be a host) but there are still amazing things going on and the issues of complicity in gender-race-slavery are still at the forefront. Great show!
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