Happy Thanksgiving 2019

I just figured out how to determine the number of people automatically receiving this blog each time it’s published.

We’re almost at #200.

“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.”

― Charlotte Bronte

If you’ve got some time, if you will scroll back to one of your favorite posts, send it to someone else. Send it to several others. Invite them to follow if they like what they read.

Thank you for this help.
RW

Hope is the Thing With Feathers
by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.