Life is a Bumpy Road

Austin, Texas. Travel in Texas. Life in General. "Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. - - -Dylan Thomas

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Location: Austin, Texas, United States

I am an esteemed alumni of Austin College in Sherman Texas (Class of "none of your business"). I graduated with a BA in Liberal Arts as a History Major. Subsequently, I have worked in the human services field since graduation because there aren't too many jobs out there for history majors. Except for my short incarceration in Sherman, I have always lived in Austin, Texas. That's not totally true, I was born in England and lived there approximately 18 months, but for some strange reason I don't remember living there. I travel through out Texas for my job, every week. So beware Texans, I might be coming to a town near you!! I am happily married to a wonderful guy and have 0 (zero, zilch) children. (We just forgot to have them?) I find life amusing now (I used to find it extremely depressing but that's another story). So here's to Life, which after all can be a very bumpy road!

"Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions." -Albert Einstein

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Funeral Blues

Ever since I heard this poem recited in the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral", I loved it because it expresses exactly how I would feel if I ever lose my husband. It is a poem of true love lost.




Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-- W.H. Auden

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