Wait. This is no tomfoolery.Here's what happened. It was a fine Sunday afternoon. The venerable seniors & self were on a ramble along the path you see above.
And this cottage - St. Ninian's - loomed up on the way. I did the only thing I could - I fell in love with it.
Open Letter to My Significant Other, courtesy Thomas Lovell Beddoes:
If there were dreams to sell,
If there were dreams to sell,
What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell;
Some a light sigh,
That shakes from Life's fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell,
What would you buy?
A cottage lone and still,
With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still,
Until I die.
Such pearl from Life's fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will,
This would best heal my ill,
This would I buy.
And further, dear Vineet, per Wordsworth,
On favoured ground, thy gift, where I might dwell
In neighbourhood with One to me most dear,
That undivided we from year to year
Might work in our high Calling--a bright hope
To which our fancies, mingling, gave free scope
Till checked by some necessities severe.
Just a thought, you know.
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