Holiday Wishes

A client sent me this poem as a greeting for the season. I was touched by it – even more because the poet is Welsh, as my mother was – and I thought it was worth sending on. Hope you enjoy it in this weekend of snows:

SOMETIMES

Sometimes things don't go, after all
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man; decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss; sometimes we do as we mean to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen to you.

by Sheenagh Pugh, a poet from Wales.

(Interestingly, Pugh hates this poem. For some FAQ side reading, click here.)

Bob and I won't be there for the Monday night walk – hope some of you get together for eggnog antidoting Ks at Loblaws. Then stock up on the rich stuff afterwards.

Our Wednesday walk falls on Christmas Eve. I might be up for a walk on the morning of, rather than in the evening. For an early start on the last-minuteness of it all, I'd suggest 8 am, with a distance of 5-6K. Would there be any takers? I'll check in later to see.