Innocent Bystander wrote:Seeing Red Kites. There has been a programme to re-introduce them to this part of the country, and they regularly fly over the street where I live.
They showed them on Country File this morning, flying over the Chilterns where the M40 cuts through. They're thriving there now. Inspiring!
Innocent Bystander wrote:And a snifter of good whiskey.
A man of excellent taste, obviously. A small drop of Highland Park followed by a small drop of Talisker saw me nicely off to bed last night. Do not ask me to define "small" in this context.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
I lost a treasured cat three weeks ago, prematurely due to a mishap. This was the thing she did with me all the time. It's only a small thing I know, but, truly, you don't know what you've got till it's gone.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
My 63 lb. Bull Terrier jumping up into my lap while I am at the computer typing away.... he does this to inform me that it is time for his frisbee session in the back yard.
A small drop of Highland Park followed by a small drop of Talisker saw me nicely off to bed last night. Do not ask me to define "small" in this context.
Talisker I know. Highland Park I'm not (yet) acquainted with. Something to look forward to. Excellent taste, youself!
After the last bottle of Bushmills was finished, I swore I was going to finish the bottle of brandy which we found underneath my aunt's pillow when she died, before I got more whiskey. True story!
SteveShaw wrote:I lost a treasured cat three weeks ago, prematurely due to a mishap. This was the thing she did with me all the time. It's only a small thing I know, but, truly, you don't know what you've got till it's gone.
No truer words spoken.
When I would come home from work, my cat would come trotting up the sidewalk to me, his tail up, meowing. I know he probably just wanted his treat but it always made me happy.
I'm sorry about your cat, Steve.
SteveShaw wrote:I lost a treasured cat three weeks ago, prematurely due to a mishap. This was the thing she did with me all the time. It's only a small thing I know, but, truly, you don't know what you've got till it's gone.
No truer words spoken.
When I would come home from work, my cat would come trotting up the sidewalk to me, his tail up, meowing. I know he probably just wanted his treat but it always made me happy.
I'm sorry about your cat, Steve.
Sometimes it's the little things that make us a bit more human. One of the things you learn as you get older. Seeing the "big picture" is necessary too, but there's more to life.
Cheers, Montana!
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
The best little thing that makes me happy is the keyboard solo on "Inca Roads". It's great when I'm feeling overwhelmed or uninspired and takes me flying above Kuzco by goat.
Common things that are difficult to get just right. The perfect avocado (who knows till you cut into it?). A Williams pear just at the point. The late, lamented self-sufficiency guru John Seymour declared that there's just one perfect day in the life of a pear. A big slice of Brie, oozing, tangy, not too salty and ripened to perfection. Surprisingly elusive but the quest is worth it.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
