Easter run! Chocolate! Favourite fun food! Poem.

Yeah, um, not a religious person at all but I do love me some easter chocolate, so eat ’em if you got ’em!

A short run today, only 10k God I love being able to say that’s a short run now!

Went to a party at my new running friend’s place last night and had way too much to drink and eat. But mainly too much to drink. I like a girl with a serious wine cellar and a Liquor cabinet to boot. 

I made this appetiser!

I lifted the idea from thedancingrunner as she shared it on a recent post. Goat cheese filled dates. So good! I just set them out at room temperature but they can be warmed up in the oven for a few minutes if you like. They were definitely a success as the entire batch disappeared with no trace lol. 

Kitten with easter chocolate. What could be better!? Well, playing with the ribbon that was tied around the bag, of course! A gift from my landlady, so nice.

56’21” for 10k considering the dehydration and slight hangover I must say that is a pretty good time! 

Picked up some books from the 3 for the price of 2 bargain bin again and was very happy to find  the complete poems of Elizabeth Bishop. Many years ago in a life far, far away I worked at the Library of Congress in Washington DC as a conservation technician. I got the chance to wander through parts of the various buildings that the public never gets to see and handled books that you just can’t imagine the value of. One of my favorite’s was Teddy Rosevelt’s personal diary, but there were so many others. Interesting also were the incredible views, and this brings me to today’s delightful poem…

View of the Capitol from the Library of Congress. 

Moving from left to left, the light 
is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. 
One small lunette turns it aside 
and blankly stares off to the side 
like a big white old wall-eyed horse. 

On the east steps the Air Force Band 
in uniforms of Air Force blue 
is playing hard and loud, but – queer – 
the music doesn’t quite come through. 

It comes in snatches, dim then keen, 
then mute, and yet there is no breeze. 
The giant trees stand in between. 
I think the trees must intervene, 

catching the music in their leaves 
like gold-dust, till each big leaf sags. 
Unceasingly the little flags 
feed their limp stripes into the air, 
and the band’s efforts vanish there. 

Great shades, edge over, 
give the music room. 
The gathered brasses want to bo 
boom – boom.
Elizabeth Bishop.