When I was young I recall how much fun it was having my gramma come for a visit and stay over. In the morning my sisters and I would crawl into bed with her and cuddle and have her tell us stories. One of the favorite things she'd do is recite from memory some poems from Robert W. Service. Our favourite was the Cremation of Sam McGee, which I've now passed on to my own kids. A strange sort of family tradition, but I guess it suits our macabre sense of humor:
In memory of Grams, heres a slightly stranger version - as read by a robot:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment