(no subject)
Coughing is way subsided.Fever broke a few hours ago. The doctor can see me next week. Don't you just love that. There should be clinics where all they see is cold flu symptoms. That's all, and if it seems more serious they'll pass you along. Got to be some money made for that.
I can only sleep for an hour or so at a time. So I've been exploring honey online. If any of you are going to be in London in the near future you can go here
http://www.thehivehoneyshop.co.uk/default.asp
and get me some English Mead Whiskey. I'd love to compare it to the Scottish Mead Whiskey I got in Edinburg. I've been very slow in sipping that nectar and it is wonderful stuff. In fact, I'm not driving anywhere, so I'll gopour myself a wee bit right now. Mmmmmmm. I boutgh four special shotglasses just for this brew. I bought it in a little shop on a hilly, winding lane. The shop had all kinds of olive oils, vinegars, wines, and whiskeys in these great bulbous decanters, and they demanded you try before you buy and then they bottle it right there for you.
Sipping it helps me recall Edinbugh's winding lanes and closes. The pub and tea houses. Centuries old buildings and walls. Cemetaries rife with aged stoned. Mausoleums so old they've caved in, the bodies re-interned elswhere, their floors strewn with alcohol swabs, belts, and parts of old syringes. The green copse of Arthurs seat as we hiked up. The ruins of St Anthony's Abby we discovered along the way. The music and shows we saw at festival. I sip and smell the few drops I permit myself at a time of this liquid divinity and travel such distances.
I can only sleep for an hour or so at a time. So I've been exploring honey online. If any of you are going to be in London in the near future you can go here
http://www.thehivehoneyshop.co.uk/default.asp
and get me some English Mead Whiskey. I'd love to compare it to the Scottish Mead Whiskey I got in Edinburg. I've been very slow in sipping that nectar and it is wonderful stuff. In fact, I'm not driving anywhere, so I'll gopour myself a wee bit right now. Mmmmmmm. I boutgh four special shotglasses just for this brew. I bought it in a little shop on a hilly, winding lane. The shop had all kinds of olive oils, vinegars, wines, and whiskeys in these great bulbous decanters, and they demanded you try before you buy and then they bottle it right there for you.
Sipping it helps me recall Edinbugh's winding lanes and closes. The pub and tea houses. Centuries old buildings and walls. Cemetaries rife with aged stoned. Mausoleums so old they've caved in, the bodies re-interned elswhere, their floors strewn with alcohol swabs, belts, and parts of old syringes. The green copse of Arthurs seat as we hiked up. The ruins of St Anthony's Abby we discovered along the way. The music and shows we saw at festival. I sip and smell the few drops I permit myself at a time of this liquid divinity and travel such distances.