doing a bit of catching up & thanking you both for the Indian stories, thoughts, memories along the way. Precious are the good memories of life.
Precious indeed are the good memories of life.
I love to hear her stories. I'm very grateful for these remembrances as I don't think of my Dad very often, miss him too much and all that. The rare opportunities I allow are indeed precious, and I'm glad and very thankful for LadyX who somehow draws them out. {{{{{hugs}}}}}
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
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.
Robert Frost