life with five sons – and other perplexities

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2013

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Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far country blows;
What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

~A. E. Housman

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My Blue Remembered Hills

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