For the youth in the audience, that was once a very popular song. The French know a bit about that sort of thing. And now I’ve had a drink, I can ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask for a while:
Where the hell is Dominique? Has there been a tidal wave in Mumbai, or something? Losing Dominiques isn’t nice.
And another thing. I’ve just caught up with he-who-shall-be-nameless again. How on earth do people manage to write words which don’t actually say anything? Is this a skill I should cultivate?
I’ll go to Bedlam – just as soon as I’ve finished the next drink. My garret is cold tonight.
4 comments:
i envy you have a garret- i so love those little old english villages set in green hills &farms with their quaint little cottages *swooon* unfortunately they are non existent in this country!
Unfortunately, most of those quaint little cottages have now been extended and sanitized to accomodate rich, professional people who have largely taken over the English countryside. At least around here they have. I rarely speak to them. Their values and mine don't mix well.
My robins send a cheerful song your way as they carry catalpa pods in their beaks! (*chortle*)
Bad week for wildlife, Shay. My little rat buddies down on the lane offended the mothers taking their children to school, so a man from the council turned up and exterminated them. The area is now eerily deserted, and what few are left flee at my approach. Seems they've learned to mistrust humans.
Nevertheless, reciprocal greetings to your robins. And I stll don't know what catalpa pods are. What an exotic place California must be.
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