Poem Spam

Neither Out Far Nor In Deep
by Robert Frost

The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.

As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull

The land may vary more;
But wherever the truth may be––
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.

They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep?

Three days off in a row...

And what do I decide needs doing? (Right after I put away the new spaghetti pot and casserole dish. ...And the box of books in the living room.) Setting up my new email. Ahuuurgh.

Such a pain in the butt this is! And Lord only knows why I saved some of these old email. DELETED all of you! But I am finding that I have a rather marvelous collection of recipes-- both family and otherwise --that I think I may post this evening if I haven't torn my hair out before then.

How about a trade? Perhaps someone out there has a good recipe for a casserole I can try out in my new thrift-store super-bargin-find-of-awesomeness?