Home is the sailor, home from sea

Chapomatic resurfaces after a few weeks at sea, and does so with a vengeance, clearing the buffers and dealing with a lot of pent-up blogging all at once.

He's got some great stuff about command philosophy and a short list of things he'd pay ten bucks for, but being a fat man I instantly centered in on the food post: sure wish I could've gone on that Oahu restaurant crawl with him.

Welcome back, my friend:

Home is the sailor, home from sea:
Her far-borne canvas furled
The ship pours shining on the quay
The plunder of the world.

Home is the hunter from the hill:
Fast in the boundless snare
All flesh lies taken at his will
And every fowl of air.

'Tis evening on the moorland free,
The starlit wave is still:
Home is the sailor from the sea,
The hunter from the hill.

- A.E. Housman