Too Much

The World Is Too Much With Us

By William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

In this sordid boon of an election season, when we’ve given our souls away to get and spend power, it’s good to have it followed by a super moon.

The super moon is just the moon being closer to Earth than usual, so it’s unusually bright and large. We have perfect fall weather here, clear and crisp. It’s beautiful to go out; breath the clean clear cool air in deeply and look at the huge moon and think about another world.

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July

July is birthday month around here. Me, Debbie, nephew Tom, brother-in-law Allan, favorite niece Gwen [1], various and sundry sisters-in-law [2].

Naturally, being a modern fellow, I order all my birthday gifts from Amazon. And when I do, because I’m getting free shipping, I include something off my wish list for me.

This year that was Wendell Berry’s “A Timbered Choir: the Sabbath Poems, 1979-1997.”

I got no further than the preface before I had to pause because once again Wendell Berry spoke so directly to me.

He said, “I am an amateur poet, working for the love of the work and to my own satisfaction – which are two of the conditions of ‘self-employment’ as I understand it.”

I’ve done a lot of work because I got paid to do it. And that’s not a bad thing, it’s put a roof over my head and food on my table. But I’ve done a lot of work because it pleased me to do it, and that is a satisfying thing.


1. Just kidding Emma, Karen, and Madison!

2. There are so many of them, how to keep track?

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Christmas Carols

As Christmas approaches we like to gather around the fire and sing Christmas carols. Here’s a contemporary favorite, “Away in a Dog House.”

Sung to the tune of “Away in a Manager”

Away in a dog house,
No crib for his bed
The little dog Owen
Laid down his sweet head

The stars in the bright sky
Looked down where he lay
The little dog Owen
Asleep on the hay

The cattle are lowing
The poor doggie wakes
But little dog Owen
No barking he makes

I love thee, dog Owen
Run ’round and don’t bite
And stay by my side,
‘Til morning is nigh.

Be near me, dog Owen,
I ask you to stay
Close by me forever
And beg every day

Chase all the dear children
In thy tender care
And take them to heaven
To bark at them there.

The Inspiration. Little Dog Owen, Asleep

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