By Honoré de Balzac
Translated by David Paley
Each flower speaks a word from the book of nature:
The rose is of love and celebrates beauty;
The violet is a soul both loving and pure;
And the lily resplendent in simple duty.
But the camellia is a giant of culture,
The lily without grace, the rose without fragrance,
That seems to blossom in the season of winter
With wearied portrayals of innocence.
And yet, when seated in the theatre,
I like to see those opening petals of alabaster
When white camellias form a modest crown
On the raven heads of pretty, young ladies
Who inspire in our souls pure love for things of renown
Like the Grecian marbles sculpted by Phidias.
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We got up early on Monday so we could have breakfast with son's girlfriend, who was staying at The Hotel at the University of Maryland for their computer career fair, interviewing people for her company and giving a tech talk. We went to Bagel 'n Grinds, which is in The Hotel and has very good eggwiches and hot chocolate (I can't speak about the coffee since I didn't have any, but there are free refills). When we got home, Paul went to work and I went out to do some shopping, which wound up taking the whole afternoon and I never got around to lunch before I ran into some Pokemon friends who reminded me that Gen 5 came out at 4.
So I caught a bunch of Lillipups and Patrats, then we went to do some Psystrike Mewtwo raids though I did not catch a shiny. By the time I got home, I was starving, so we had leftover chili casserole and peanut soup since they could be heated up quickly despite not quite going together. Paul wanted to watch Monday Night Football, which was not entirely dramatic since the Browns beat the Jets by a large score. Here are some photos from Sunday in the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden, including two monuments to Balzac, and Cars at the Capital on the National Mall, a 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray owned by astronaut Alan Bean:
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