Grace's Poppies - A bloggers' silent poetry reading
What a good idea. Poems in honor of either the groundhog, or the Feast of St. Bridgid (who for some reason I associate, no doubt incorrectly, with Boadicca) (which you will notice I can't really spell) (bloody Romans). Thanks, Ruth.

My choice:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest, it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attibute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is entrhoned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.
--Portia, Act IV scene 1, The Merchant of Venice, by William Shakespeare

And a brief whoo-hoo:
That last batch of designs? I sold one, it turns out. Yay! Of course, this does mean that I am well and truly screwed for the Olympics, but hey, life on the edge is where you get the best view.

I have finished winding all the yarn for my Olympic Project. I'm not so panicked now. The pattern isn't all that complex, when you get down to it. Every leaf section has rows of just plain one color every so often, so I'll have little "sanity breaks" in there as I go. (does this sound like rationalizing? 'cause it sounds like it to me...)