WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Matins
byVanderleunonApril 20, 2022
Matins: LITERARY — the morning song of birds. Origin: Middle English: from Old French matines, plural (influenced by Church Latin matutinae ‘morning prayers’) of matin ‘morning’, from Latin matutinum, neuter of matutinus ‘early in the morning’, from Matuta, the name of the dawn goddess.
How apropos that this Matins post starts my morning look at the interwebs, after sitting on my back porch with my morning coffee listening to the cacophony of robins’ morning chatter, punctuated by the melodic songs of cardinals starting their day. Now I think I want some bacon, too.
ghostsniperApril 21, 2022, 4:11 AM
Your porch sounds just like mine and I think we have similar fry pans.
Fry up that bacon then float a few eggz on that puddle of grease. DAWG!
Ghostsniper, your suggestion has spurred me to setup the ol’ Coleman campstove on the back porch, grab the cast iron skillet, bacon and eggs, and brew a bit more coffee. I’ll take my second breakfast with the birds.
gwbnyc, a quick cursory reading of Rufus’ page indicates that his political career and cush corporate type board seats was not much different than political careers in the here and now.
gwbnycApril 21, 2022, 4:41 AM
I’m imagine his career was set in centuries of precedent at that.
Scrolling to “Marconi Scandal” caused this to catch my eye- “An article published in Le Matin on 14 February 1913”. Another morning, another coincidence.
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Green Pants Interior by Klahn
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
How apropos that this Matins post starts my morning look at the interwebs, after sitting on my back porch with my morning coffee listening to the cacophony of robins’ morning chatter, punctuated by the melodic songs of cardinals starting their day. Now I think I want some bacon, too.
Your porch sounds just like mine and I think we have similar fry pans.
Fry up that bacon then float a few eggz on that puddle of grease. DAWG!
Ghostsniper, your suggestion has spurred me to setup the ol’ Coleman campstove on the back porch, grab the cast iron skillet, bacon and eggs, and brew a bit more coffee. I’ll take my second breakfast with the birds.
Set another plate. I’m coming over for breakfast. I’ll bring the whiskey.
And I’ve got the proper tin cups for morning whiskey, Mike.
blue enamel?
Not blue enamel, just fire charred tin cups.
I’ll just tilt my head back and you can pour it in.
these pages here are quite something.
seeking my own etymology meandered me to this destination this morning:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rufus_Isaacs,_1st_Marquess_of_Reading
-for no apparent reason…
gwbnyc, a quick cursory reading of Rufus’ page indicates that his political career and cush corporate type board seats was not much different than political careers in the here and now.
I’m imagine his career was set in centuries of precedent at that.
Scrolling to “Marconi Scandal” caused this to catch my eye- “An article published in Le Matin on 14 February 1913”. Another morning, another coincidence.
I still react like that when I eat bacon.
I find it very interesting that the natural response to bacon is so very similar to the natural response to ice cream or sweets.
Bacon will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no bacon.
The kid has awakened to bacon, if Im not mistaken
felts bacon, salt hams.
ivor, virginia.