Because most philosophies that frown on reproduction don't survive.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Sumer Is Icumen to an End

Hello, friends! I've missed you! I'm emerging from my rest-tirement because today is the last day of our co-op, which means that the girls are frantically finishing up their projects on Egypt and Belgium (they have their mother's last-minute work ethic) and I'm curious to see whether my homeschool choir will actually be able to sing Sumer Is Icumen In in rounds and whether Santa Lucia will sound as operatic before an audience as it has in practice.

This is a bit fancier than we're planning to get, but the round sounds good.

(Digression: Ezra Pound wrote a parody of Sumer Is Icumen In, about his love for winter:

Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damm you; Sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing goddamm,
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.)

I am up and about today with the help of my friend, Mr. Protein. Apparently Mr. Protein is very handy for things like regulating albumin in the blood so that the fluid doesn't leak from the blood vessels into other parts of the body, and he comes in portable, highly compact, barely palatable forms as bars and shakes that the kids have no desire to steal even though they look like candy and chocolate milk. Mr. Protein gives me energy and keeps my ankles trim, and I hope he keeps the bottom number of my blood pressure from rising above 90.

Four more weeks to go...


Jenny said...

Do you like hard-boiled eggs? That might be more palatable than those protein bars.

bearing said...

I have been hanging out with Mr. Iron, myself.