The Eagle
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
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Tuesday felt like a Monday except for the pleasure of knowing that Friday was closer, which made laundry more tolerable. It was overcast all day, drizzly in the morning, we took a walk right after lunch because the forecast called for harder rain but we never had a big storm. Having scanned so many of Paul's family photos, I scanned an album of my mother's mother's photos, plus some other papers I'd found while sorting things in the basement, and we ate vegan pizza for dinner.
My Voyager group watched "Rise" which I had remembered as being inoffensive but boring, which it really was. Then Paul and I watched The King's Man, which managed to be both offensive AND boring -- its only real highlight was Tom Hollander playing lookalike cousins Kaiser Wilhelm, Czar Nicholas, and King George V. Any movie that wastes a cast including Arterton, Hounsou, and Goode that badly is not forgivable, and the ending is moronic. Birds of prey at Meadowside Nature Center:
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