Now is the Winter...

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now,--instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,--
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.


At first glance, the first line of this speech from Richard the Third seems to mean that he and his pals are having a horrible winter; a winter full of despair,(not easily cured with a artificial lamp custom-made to aid seasonal affective disorder), BUT if you read it again you realize that he means that his discontent is almost over. Richard's discontent is in the winter of its life cycle. It is almost dead.

As is Ours...

Some folks have asked if we have been nesting. Here is a song that describes exactly how we are nesting. Again, this song at first listen sounds depressing and sad, BUT listen again. Close your eyes and crank it up.

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV, turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch

Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch for when I'm old
Digging this ditch my story's told

Where all these troubles
That weigh down on me will rise
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Where all these questions
Spinnin' around my head
Will die, will die, will die...

Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV, turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch

Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch when I am through
Digging this ditch I'll dig in for you
Where all these worries
Weigh it down on me will rise
Where all these habits
Pull heavy at my heart
will die


Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Not what you should be or what you've become
Just get heavy on with digging your ditch

Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Where all these dissapointments, grow angry out of me
Will rise...
Will die...
Will die...
Will die...

Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
And turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch