Poem for Wednesday and Brood X Emerges

Sonnet 94: They That Have Power To Hurt and Will Do None
By William Shakespeare

They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:
They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

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I actually got a reasonable amount done on Tuesday! I talked to a neighbor, I finished laundry, I planted catnip in the front yard (where it may or may not survive because we don't get a huge amount of direct sunlight anywhere), I got suet to put in the new feeders, I uploaded a bunch of photos. And my friend Alanna, whom I haven't seen since neither of us remembers when -- maybe the original Voyager series finale or more likely a local convention after that -- came over to pick up my complete M*A*S*H DVDs, which I had promised her for her birthday, and although she had to leave before rush hour, that was awesome. 

One of my Voyager friends couldn't come this evening so the other three of us just talked for an hour and a half, then I watched the return of Superman and Lois which still has a little too much CW-ness, and then we started watching Halston in which Ewan McGregor is so entertaining that I might forgive him for being Ewan McGregor. We had another gorgeous day, so Paul and I took a walk to see the bunnies and the emerging cicadas, which I have been warned that I should not post without a big warning even though no one seems to feel that way about the things that squick me, so be warned, Brood X pics follow: