I’ve been silent as the grave as of late. My apologies. Some of my time is with drupal, which is a pleasure, some is getting widgetopia.net working steadily better, a goodly bit of it is finishing up a consulting project, and part of it is getting ready to drive to Iowa saturday. So my silence is probably not going to change much until July.
For now, enjoy this peculiar poem my father emailed me. things like this remind me why I love the web.
“The Labouring Man, that toils all day full sore,
A pot of Ale at Night, doth him Restore,
And makes him all his Toil and paines forget,
And for another day-work, hee’s then fit;
There’s more in drinking Ale, sure that we wot,
For most Ingenious Artists, love a Pot;
Nay amorous Ladyes it will pleasure too,
Make frozen Maids, and Nuns, and Virgins do
The thing you know; Soldiers and Gown-men,
Rich and poor, old and young, lame and sound men
May such advantage reap by drinking Ale”