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1)A bunch of us sitting on a beach in Ardnamurchan around a lit fire, watching the sun set behind the hills as we pass round the whisky, the smokes (of various kinds) for those who indulge, and jars of scallops for the pescatarians.
2) A wee heilan’ pub at lock-in, fiddles and accordions and glowing peat and drams and dramas and poets, lairds and dreamers.@bon bon wrote:
would be
a meal in good company (preferably an Indian)
followed by a laugh with friends in a pub
and then
home to watch a video curled up on the sofa
Heaven :DHmm..’good company (preferably an Indian)’ what like Ghandi..or Nehru mebbe? Maybe Mr Chandramouleeswaran from the 24 hour grocery down the road? :P
I agree with Fek..like or dislike Emma’s political stance..she at least showed fervour and devotion to her cause..and as Fek says, she kept the political board going.
In spite of everything, I’m glad it isn’t. :wink:
Och Mary, that must be hellish for you, I can empathise to some degree as I had breathing problems back in the early nineties and was on inhalers for over a year whilst my doc swithered over whether or not I had asthma or an allergic reaction.
We never did find out what was closing up my airways..I had all the usual tests..and I was certainly allergic to grass pollens and yeast.
In all probability, my problems were psychosimatic, but the restricted airways and gasping for breath were very real.
Perhaps if my boyfriend had let go of my throat huh?Och c’mon now..the lass deserves decent birthday wishes.
.I’m assuming it really IS your solar return Veronica, in which case..
Hope you have a wonderful day xx
By the age of twenty-one I was on sixty ciggies a day, having smoked since I was fourteen, like most people in their twenties, I was foolish enough to believe in my immortality so the prospect of lung cancer never entered the equation, but my enormous, mammoth-like beast of an ego prized my looks above all else, so eventually it was vanity which won out over addiction:
I had a habit of always having a ciggy hanging out of the corner of my mouth when my hands were occupied – typing – painting – whatever – and slowly but surely started to develop nicotine stains on the tiny hairs up my nose. Imperceptible to anyone else..but to me it looked like I’d been snorting cocoa. So the cigs had to go.
I stopped overnight. My greatest longing was not so much for the nicotine, but for all the accoutrements that went with it – my selection of fancy cigarette holders, the beautiful gold lighter I had been given by friends for my twenty-first birthday, the exotic brands of cigarette themselves, which I would mix and match as the fancy took me, calling in daily at a fabulous wee tobacconists in Saint Vincent’s Place in Glasgow, en route to University.
I was such a sucker for the beauty and promise of the product’s packaging, that during my roll-up-ciggy period, it was from that very tobacconists that I emerged with a packet of Three Castles, only to find, when I tried to roll and light my mishapen and disgusting fag – that I was attempting to smoke goddamn pipe tobacco.
So, everything was consigned to a drawer and then to a bin and despite a year-long laps in my thirties, I haven’t smoked since.
Yet, the most curious of things, all the longings I didn’t have for nicotine back then, have emerged on occasion in the here and now – usually late at night when talking and laughing with friends, but then I miss my glass of whisky too. Perhaps the urge is based more on reminiscence than need, like the smell of my mother’s perfume, or the hot car-leather of a summer holiday,vying with dad’s eighty a day habit billowing out of the offside window.
I’m wittering.
I’ll shut up now. :?The superb talent that is Fee Waybill and..
Come fly with me
What are you waiting for
Come fly with me
Don’t waste a minute more
I’ll give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
Give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
I’m waiting here
For no one else but you
Come closer dear
That’s all you have to do
I’ll give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
Give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
Don’t be shy
I would never hurt you
I have had my eye on you
for such a long, long time
You know I’m always here
if you should need me
If you want a drink or two
I’m the one you should see
Go anywhere
Still you can call on me
And I’ll be there
Just say the word and see
I’ll give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
Give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
I’ve waited here
for no one else but you
Come closer dear
That’s all you have to do
I’ll give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for you
Give you my prime time
I’m saving my prime time for youA Burt Bacharach number beautifully executed by Dionne Warwick..and my favourite ever Stranglers track..
