Struts and frets
Macbeth: To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 19–28 Yesterday was about doing. Doing what I really didn't want to do in weather I did not want to do it in. March again gave us gale force winds chilling a day that would have been great without it. I am trying to clean up my property. More specifically the huge mess the last tenants left. And a scrap wood pile the studio contractor left and I added to. It all has gotten totally out of hand. With no help from the winds this winter which more than any previous year seems to have blown in trash from Hwy 434. I h...