Thy Quinces Outshine

There's something so Old Masterish about quince; these are ours early this morning, love the soft fuzz. Like the grapes, the birds ate all of them last year, but keeping a sharp eye this year; I want to see them turn pink when I cook them...

You'll know this one, by Edward Lear:
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon.
And here is a lovely animated version of the whole poem.

But for me, at this stage of life, I think this one by Paulus Silentiarius – a Greek poet writing in the 6th century, is far more romantic:
The lines I see upon thy face
Surpass the bloom of youthful grace
Thy quinces drooping in my hand
Outshine young breasts that upright stand
Winter than summer seems more warm
And springtime yields to Autumn’s charm.
Shades of "Calendar Girls", which if you've never seen, you really should!

Gratefuls:
- Mike making good progress on the shade, almost done
- making a pecan pie for the first time in my life, turned out delish, if I do say so (for a picnic tomorrow)
- good chat with my boy, who's preparing to preach on Sunday, for the first time since Before