Next up on my exciting blog: photos of the skinks that play on my steps. You have to admit that they're kind of cute!
We found this tarp hanging from the trees just down the street from my house.
Crazy.
This has been an eventful and sometimes exhausting week for me--and much more so for many whose homes and lives have been devastated by the tornadoes.
Here are a few pictures a coworker took of our cleanup efforts on Tuesday. Much more work remains to be done.
Here are a few pictures a coworker took of our cleanup efforts on Tuesday. Much more work remains to be done.
I spent the day today helping clean up debris in a hard hit area about an hour away. I'll post photos and more information this weekend. It was a good day!
Last night I slept for 11 hours, got up, and was so tired the only thing I could do was go back to bed for 2 more hours. I should mention that I had a relaxing and restful day yesterday, and I am not sick that I know of.
If I feel like this when I am 30, what will I be like when I am 60??!?
If I feel like this when I am 30, what will I be like when I am 60??!?
My "walk" pictures will continue to post, but the minds of most of us here are on the recent tornado tragedies. This poem by Langston Hughes about beautiful Alabama seems appropriate to read:
When I get to be a composer
I'm gonna write me some music about
Daybreak in Alabama
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist
And falling out of heaven like soft dew.
I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it
And the scent of pine needles
And the smell of red clay after rain
And long red necks
And poppy colored faces
And big brown arms
And the field daisy eyes
Of black and white black white black people
And I'm gonna put white hands
And black hands and brown and yellow hands
And red clay earth hands in it
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about daybreak
In Alabama.
When I get to be a composer
I'm gonna write me some music about
Daybreak in Alabama
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist
And falling out of heaven like soft dew.
I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it
And the scent of pine needles
And the smell of red clay after rain
And long red necks
And poppy colored faces
And big brown arms
And the field daisy eyes
Of black and white black white black people
And I'm gonna put white hands
And black hands and brown and yellow hands
And red clay earth hands in it
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about daybreak
In Alabama.
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