Fling at the Stars

Only photo all day, when I'd finished cleaning (from Mike putting up insulation and new ceiling - notice the stars) and sorting mezzanine for our soon coming guests. Mike usually does up there, as you have to do it on your knees, but not possible atm (he's getting better, but can't kneel).

Didn't do all sorts I'd planned (like shopping), but did a lot of other stuff instead. Tipping down most of the day and night, with thunder and lightning, so didn't fancy leaving the house - and still going, glad we live on a ridge.

Another quote from ch15, "The Long Session" because I love it. Was going to skip 16, the last chapter, but it's too good to miss, so will do that another day, probably not tomorrow, though, which will be very full.
So, his blessing (remember, he's an Episcopalian priest) on your dinner parties:
May your table be graced with lovely women and good men. May you drink well enough to drown the envy of youth in the satisfactions of maturity. May your men wear their weight with pride, secure in the knowledge that they have at last become considerable. ... And your women? Ah! Women are like cheese strudels. When first baked, they are crisp and fresh on the outside, but the filling is unsettled and indigestible; in age, the crust may not be so lovely, but the filling comes at last into its own. May you relish them indeed. (Reminds me of "Calendar Girls".) May we all sit long enough for reserve to give way to ribaldry and for gallantry to grow upon us. May there be singing at our table before the night is done, and old, broad jokes to fling at the stars and tell them we are men. (Reminds me of Rivendell.)
We are great, my friend; we shall not be saved for trampling that greatness under foot.