Eugh! - Five hours of driving last night after a day at work. But I've woken up refreshed at my Mum and Dad's house and I'm glad to see that 'Sunny Southend' ...... is going to live up to its name today.
Looking around my childhood home for ideas for posts, I found this little pot that I gave my Mum. It was the first piece of ceramic that I decorated, in the now defunct Cardew Design studio in Bovey Tracey. I now remember that they provided black underglaze pencils that could be used for fine detail work which made the writing part easier than using a fine brush.
I initially came across the words I used, from Robert Frost's 'Stopping my Woods on a Snowy Evening', on a unsucessful attempt to walk the entire Appalachian Trail. You may now momentarily conjure up an image of me as an asthete lugging a pile of poetry books through the mountains for the sake of art. Appealing as this is, it is sadly quite false - I read the lines on a T-Shirt! .
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 it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.