I am in here.
Somebody once told me that the last people who were fair game for being badmouthed were those of us who are not morning people. I work best at night, and now that my son is old enough to drive himself to school (hey, he says he goes there), I don’t have to be up at … Continue reading My own cliché
Nope, none of that sissy stuff I had for my eighteenth birthday – none of those dusty old bottles of 1890 Rothschild port. Hell no. Drunken Noodles at the Bangkok Bistro, and a couple of splits of cheap champagne. Okay, maybe it was a mistake not to have the Rothschild port. Especially of that vintage. … Continue reading Birthday dinner
… and filed away here for future use. Now I have to go shoot those Bambis that have been eating all my hostas the past few years. From ProfessorBainbridge.com: With apologies to Stephen Green…a Friday Recipe Sometimes you pick the wine to go with the food you’ve chosen, but sometimes you pick a meal to … Continue reading found via VodkaPundit
Looking at the dark outside the window, and listening to the sound that might be that of a road, but is really the wind travelling down the river valley. Houses become islands of light at times like these. My son and his friends, freed for the weekend, stop by briefly on their travels. Doors open … Continue reading Friday night
white pebble 