Reading, Writing, and Hope

The weekend edition.

My favorite poem of all time (unfortunately not autumnal): Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know.   His house is in the village though;   He will not see me stopping here   To watch his woods fill up with snow.    My little horse must think…

Yeah, I realize this list is a little self-absorbed. I dunno. It took the coffee a long time to get the brain primed this morning. If, in fact, it actually did.