By William Shakespeare
For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any,
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov'st is most evident:
For thou art so possessed with murderous hate,
That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind:
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
Wednesday was dryer than Tuesday but just as chilly. In the morning, after feeding the birds, I took a bunch of photos of books to list on Facebook Marketplace and eBay, then I had lunch and chatted with my high school friends on Google Meet. We took a walk in the afternoon, on the early side since it's getting dark earlier, and we ate Beyond Burgers for dinner.
The Masked Singer weirdly did a Thanksgiving-themed episode this week with way too many reality TV stars who can't really sing, then we watched Nightbooks, which wasn't really my thing, or maybe I was just not in the mood for a soft-horror movie with and for kids so soon after Halloween, though the art direction was lovely. Animals at Great Falls last weekend: