[Ann Drysdale]

Thanks, John.

Sadly, though, it's not shiny-new. It has had one previous owner (who drove it carefully to church and back of a Sunday).

Probably one too many for Lucy, though, who likes the smell of new leather.

[John Whitworth]

ah, but how will she know?

[Brian Allgar]

Well, if the car's ever been driven to Syria, Lucy will probably smell Ma'arrat.

[Ann Drysdale]

Sorry, Brian - I wasn't ignoring you - we crossposted.

Your tapioca story brought back a memory of mine. A friend and I applied for a grant to "buy time" to finish works in progress and we'd agreed that the one who got it would treat the other to a slap-up feed. I was lucky, so the meal was my shout. As we entered the restaurant a voice whispered "good evening, Miss" and my friend recognised the waiter as a lad she'd been instrumental in dismissing from the school she worked at. As we sat down, I advised "don't have the soup!"

[John Whitworth]

I was thinking, Brian. The sharing of bodily fluids is often an act of love. Or wasn't it that kind of school?

[Brian Allgar]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

I was thinking, Brian. The sharing of bodily fluids is often an act of love. Or wasn't it that kind of school?

John

My school, indeed, was rather Rugger-y,
Which often leads to acts of buggery;
But as for me, I hated all such sports,
And bums in scrums provoked no lustful thoughts.

[Marion Shore]

From Auguries of Innocence by William Carlos Williams


To see a world in a farmer’s shed,
and a heaven where raindrops quicken,
glazing a wheelbarrow painted red,
and eternity in a chicken.

[Ann Drysdale]

Marion - that made me snort my tea down my nose! Yes!

[Brian Allgar]

"... and eternity in a chicken" - superb!

Mind you, I once bought one that was nearly that old.

[Janice D. Soderling]

Marion, I love it.