Cathy in the Wright

Out Damned Typos

Another great day. I think it might be unfair. I seem to have more than my share.

I went to my nephew's first communion this morning. I'm not sure there is anything more adorable than little girls in white dresses with white gloves. Except my nephew, of course, who looked heart-breakingly cute in his dress pants, white shirt, and tie. I was so proud. It was enough to make me almost forgive the family behind me who talked through the entire mass. What is wrong with people? In my younger days, if I made a fraction of the noise these cretins did, the priest would have finished mass and said my funeral immediately afterwards.

After a hearty lunch at my brother and sister-in-law's house, I headed for the field. Outdoor soccer started today! Sundays are a pick-up league which means laid back, casual, just-for-fun soccer. Too bad it didn't apply to the witch who elbowed me in the last half of the game. I mowed her over like the dandelion weed she is. Brrrrrmmm. Next week she'll be showing some respect.

Arriving home, I found The Outpost in full swing. My in-laws planned a picnic in honor of my brother-in-law and his wife being in town. Food, neighbors, friends, beer, and a bonfire were all in attendance, and it didn't take long to add one tipsy blogger. (Good Lord, you have no idea how long it has taken me to write these few paragraphs; so many typos to fix. If the d*mn screen would just hold still.).

My brother-in-law's wife, The Dane, is a teacher and fellow English major, so in her honor, I submit one of my favorite sonnets:

When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

I'm not a Shakespeare groupie, but I'll own to liking this particular sonnet. No. 29, in case you're a trivia buff.

Will The Dane leave a comment and share her favorite poem, sonnet, or snippet of literature? Perhaps. As I stumbled headed inside, she was in a similar state of sobriety. Tomorrow may find her more interested in the benefits of Tylenol than beauties of Tennyson. I know I will.

Posted by Cathy at May 3, 2004 01:32 AM