Dah Duit (Hi) and welcome

Her Friends Bring Her A Christmas Tree, Upon a Dying Lady VII - W.B. Yeats

“Pardon, great enemy,
Without an angry thought
We’ve carried in our tree,
And here and there have bought
Till all the boughs are gay,
And she may look from the bed
On pretty things that may
Please a fantastic head.
Give her a little grace,
What if a laughing eye
Have looked into your face—
It is about to die.”





 “My experience is that as soon as people are old enough to know better, they don’t know anything at all. -Oscar Wilde”