Began the day with an early 3 am bowl of Hamborger Veermaster in a Stanwell Reg'd Flame Grain saddle billiard while scanning the 80 meter lower side band on the old Grundig. This afternoon the kids went to the ice rink so I enjoyed some Sweet Rum Twist in a Castello "Castello" liverpool while watching a couple episodes of Sherlock Holmes. Now watching a college bowl game with some Stonehenge from Jon's pipe shop in a Stanwell HCA, a nice glass of red wine from a bottle that Tin Man gave us for Christmas.
From todays edition of The Writers Almanac:
It's the birthday of the British writer Rudyard Kipling. Born in Bombay (now Mumbai), India (1865). His father was an artist who got a teaching appointment in British-controlled India. So Kipling grew up in Bombay, in a house with a huge garden. He loved life in India — playing with the paint and clay in his father's studio and spending days with his nanny. She was Indian, and she told him traditional stories and took him with her to the crowded markets. The boy spoke Hindi much better than his parents did, and he absorbed all sorts of songs, stories, and conversations that were meant for adults.
But his happy life in India came to an end when his parents sent him back to England after an outbreak of typhoid and cholera. He went to live with a couple in Southsea, but they were extremely strict. They constantly punished Kipling, and even made him go to school with a sign on his back that said, "Liar."
He went to an army school and got a job with the army back in India. He worked as a staff member on the daily newspaper for British soldiers. At night, Kipling had trouble sleeping, so he started writing fiction and poetry. He became a huge success. He also became a celebrity, which he didn't like at all. So he left England and moved to Vermont, and it was there that he started thinking about his childhood in India and wrote The Jungle Book (1894).
Rudyard Kipling said, "If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten."