WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
From my youth up I never liked the city.
I never forgot the mountains where I was born.
The world caught me and harnessed me
And drove me through dust, thirty years away from home.
Migratory birds return to the same tree.
Fish find their way back to the pools where they were hatched.
I have been over the whole country,
And I have come back at last to the garden of my childhood.
My farm is only ten acres.
The farm house has eight or nine rooms.
Elms and willows shade the back garden.
Peach trees stand by the front door.
The village is out of sight.
You can hear dogs bark in the alleys,
And cocks crow in the mulberry trees.
When you come through the gate into the court
You will find no dust or mess.
Peace and quiet live in every room.
I am content to stay here the rest of my life.
At last I have found myself.
— Tao Yuan Ming (Tao Qian) Chinese, 365-427
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Pla pla pla. That’s funny.
You were right about sultan’s of swing… Miss that guy’s writing. Peace
“I’d like the Trump salad, please.”
Looks fairly tasty to me, unless I’m missing something.
That expiration date ain’t right.
I buy fresh produce down the street for a lot less than that, steam it in a steamer bag in the dreaded microwave oven and pick my sauce.
And I’ll say right now, I ain’t eating any sh*t-take or criminy mushrooms. No matter how you prepare them.