Friday, June 29, 2012

'if' by rudyard kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Just returned from a dentist appointment.  Mid way through the procedure, with my mouth filled to capacity with bolts, clamps, impression paste and assorted paraphernalia, my chronic cough kicked into hyper drive!  I proceeded to quake, expectorate and convulse, until the whole scene was reminiscent of the last days of Vesuvius. The doctor indicated this was the first time he’d actually entertained the possibility of losing a patient during a procedure.  I suggested I’d never expired from such a procedure before, and it seemed unlikely I would do so more than once.  The technician admitted to being most horrified at the prospect of my inadvertently swallowing the entire apparatus, clamps, paste, paraphernalia, and all!  While this prospect is indeed horrifying, truth be told, it’s not swallowing the thing that causes me the most trepidation, but the prospect of passing it, in its entirety, later. STC   

Monday, June 4, 2012

Shady, Bittersweet Reflections

Which version do you like the best?

 Today marks the 34th anniversary 
of our return to the Ozarks, 
and would have been Dad's 88th birthday.