Sepia Saturday - A weekly meme providing a visual prompt for participants to share their own photographs. (I'm going to share some poetry as well.)
Excerpt from: Reflections on Ice-Breaking, by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)
Everyone is familiar with the last two lines, right? If not, follow the link.
This week's image prompt is an advertisement for Wampole's Preparation, which was marketed as a tastier way to deliver cod liver oil. (Cod liver oil has a high vitamin-D content, which is useful in preventing Rickets.) In addition to the cod liver oil, the 'preparation' contained 12% alcohol.
Today's parents might receive a visit from Social Services if they regularly gave their child alcohol-based tonics.
Today, October 2nd, marks one year since my wife and I sat in a courtroom and promised a judge that we would continue to love and care for our two twin boys, always and forever. They had been living with us many months, but it was on this date that the judge finally removed the adjective 'foster' from our relationship, and we legally became their parents, and they became our sons.
Here are a few photographs. I promise they are drinking apple juice in the first one. One thing the images illustrate is how my wife and I like to dress them in 'coordinating, but not matching' outfits. It helps to be able to tell them apart.
A Flight Shot, by Maurice Thompson (1844-1901)
We were twin brothers, tall and hale,
Glad wanderers over hill and dale.
We stood within the twilight shade
Of pines that rimmed a Southern glade.
He said: “Let’s settle, if we can,
Which of us is the stronger man.
“We’ll try a flight shot, high and good,
Across the green glade toward the wood.”
And so we bent in sheer delight
Our old yew bows with all our might.
Our long keen shafts, drawn to the head,
Were poised a moment ere they sped.
As we leaned back a breath of air
Mingled the brown locks of our hair.
We loosed. As one our bow-cords rang,
As one away our arrows sprang.
Away they sprang; the wind of June
Thrilled to their softly whistled tune.
We watched their flight, and saw them strike
Deep in the ground slantwise alike,
So far away that they might pass
For two thin straws of broom-sedge grass!
Then arm in arm we doubting went
To find whose shaft was farthest sent,
Each fearing in his loving heart
That brother’s shaft had fallen short.
But who could tell by such a plan
Which of us was the stronger man?
There at the margin of the wood,
Side by side our arrows stood,
Their red cock-feathers wing and wing,
Their amber nocks still quivering,
Their points deep-planted where they fell
An inch apart and parallel!
We clasped each other’s hands; said he,
“Twin champions of the world are we!”