The Land of Nod

Just finishing up a last minute email, I paused to wait for the website to load; my head nodded down to my chin. Bobbing back up to an 'awake' state, I recollected a favorite poem from when I was little: 'The Land of Nod' by Robert Louis Stevenson:

From Breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go, 
With none to tell me what to do--
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me, 
Both things to eat and things to see, 
And many frightening sights abroad 
Till morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way, 
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.

A few thoughts:

I didn't know Robert Louis Stevenson was Scottish.
The poem did seem longer a kid.
When I searched the poem, it wasn't the one I thought it was.
I still like the illustration with the quilt as a sea of waves. 

Henry & Patrick

For Monday - Henry's Tentacles

From a Punny Family

I hail from a punny family, with a family name written out over maps of England. Living thus in England, the place where from my ancestors fled, the pun-o-rific opportunities are endless. The fact that the area I live in vaguely (or rather directly, depending on whom you're talking to) sounds like passing gas is just unfortunate and absolutely hilariously bonding.

xoxo

For Saturday - Wedding Shoes

A big posh shopping mall, where we could send off a Tiffany necklace to be polished for the first time in too long to mention to anyone but the saleslady, and even her was a stretch. Not much to be on the mission for, but so in fashion we were. Wing-tips were sought after and found. 'Elegant' was the word: black leather, crinkled with a slight shine, boots with heels, skinny laces. The perfect wedding shoes for the 3-piece suit for the lady o' mine. Mission accomplished, and we got Mexican food.