Home home on the range ( cooking style)
O we have a home
Where the white-tail deer roam
And the porcupines do as they please.
Where the wretched raccoon
By the light of the moon
Eats the peppers, tomatoes and peas.
The lettuce is gone,
But the rabbits stay on,
For they live in this Eden sublime.
Where 'til the snow flies
They are up to their eyes
In parsley, in sage and in thyme.
The birds come to feast -
We don't mind in the least -
We'd cheerfully buy what they need.
But the squirrels so cute
And so agile to boot
Won't leave us a spoonful of seed.
Home, home by the range,
Where there's nought from the garden to boil.
The harvest's all gone
But the wildlife lives on,
And we've nothing to show for our toil.
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. Robert Frost