Counting the days

Did you see Diane's poem in the comments of my last post? Diane, you're good with food and words. :)

Did anybody follow Andy's link there? Oh my, this site will get you writing ... or else! I stopped typing for just a couple seconds and it started shouting obnoxiously at me. Ha! You'll get words on paper in hurry in that lab ... not sure they'll be any good, but then again it's impossible to edit a blank page so it might be worth bookmarking. Thanks for that, Andy.

Hey She Speaks gals, are you ready? Almost ready? Not even close but hoping you'll make it to ready? I leave in about a week (team has to be there early) so I'm really counting down the days now. Speaking of counting the days ... let's make this one count.

If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went --
Then you may count that day well spent.

But if, through all the livelong day,
You've cheered no heart, by yea or nay --
If, through it all
You've nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face--
No act most small
That helped some soul and nothing cost --
Then count that day as worse than lost.

By: George Eliot (real name =Mary Ann Evans) 1819 - 1890