Twelfth Night

If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.

After we spent all afternoon in Forest Park, bicycling, dining at the Boat House and enjoying the perfect springtime weather, he headed home only to quickly turn around and head back to the park for an evening of Shakespeare. I got Monday off from work due to a surprise power outage and the subsequent plant closure, an after effect of Friday’s storms. We rode with Joanie and met Pat and three of her friends in Shakespeare Glen. We picnicked until showtime and then enjoyed the play. It turned quite chilly by the end of the evening.

Be not afraid of greatness.
Some are born great,
some achieve greatness,
and others have greatness thrust upon them.

The play ended earlier then most Shakespeare Festival productions, which is a good thing since Monday night is typically a work night, early to bed, early to rise, don’t you know. Before I went to bed, I checked the employee hotline, which still had my building being closed without power. I went to sleep with dreams of another snow day in June, dancing in my head. I called again at six in the morning. The recorded message had been updated at 3:30 AM. I knew what it would say, even before I heard it, “normal operations have been resumed, all Saint Louis facilities are open and employees should report to work as normal.” It didn’t need to voice the following postscript, “and that means you, you lazy slacker”, I heard it anyway.

a young woman in love always looks like
patience on a monument smiling at grief