John,
Bottles?
hmmmm, I do know of mountain men who drink their liquor from an old fruit jar, but I can't imagine having a jar of Dr. Pepper.
Yeah, hiama, and blacklisted, too.
and it is nice to see a smiling face and get a "Thank you" from the local businesses as they take your money, no?
It certainly is and you can haggle, when was the last time you haggled with a supermarket -dumbed down undermarket is a more apt term I feel
Letty wrote:John Deere
Supermarkets aren't exactly super, are they. And why is it that the managers don't seem to know where anything is located; You know, exotic items such as peanut butter.
Letty sweetest. (John Deere) I am not an agricultural motorised monotith ,, nor am I geen. Either fingered or with envy.
As for peanut butter, it's never struck a harmonic chord with my taste buds
Haggle? hiama, I thought you Brits only haggled with haggises
Or is that haggi?
John,
Tsk tsk. Next to duct tape, peanut butter is the best thing to have in a safe room.
When I was a kid, I planted a peanut to see what would come up. I had already found out that money didn't grow on trees when I planted a dime, but I thought...oh, well ........... :wink:
Letty, I think our government is trying to improve our economy by getting people to the stores to buy plastic sheeting and duct tape. The retail business stinks! c.i.
C.I. you are soooooo right. I didn't buy one thing. Ticks me plumb off...and I'm already a half a bubble off plumb.
Seriously, I've seen these tactics before.
Good to see you, C.I. and what did you buy?
Haven't bought too much lately, except plants for my yard. Did I mention I bought a bare root rose? Watering it faithfully every day. Good to see you too, letty. c.i.
A bare root rose. That sounds captivating, C.I. What is it about the rose that captures the imagination? I have seen clover that caught my attention--a bovine bouquet. Guess I'm just a wildwood flower after all.
Goonight from Florida--
Letty, this is what the scots think of a haggis at any rate !
To a Haggis by Robert Burns
Bless your honest, handsome face,
Great chieftain of the pudding-race!
Above them all you take your place,
Paunch, tripe, or fiddlestring,
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as I can sing.
The groaning platter there you fill,
Your hips are like a distant hill,
Your pan would help to mend a milll
In time of need,
While through your pores the dews distill
Like amber bead.
See the farmer burden send a-flight
And cut you up with ready sleight
Slicing your gushing entrails bright
Like any ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reeking rich!
Then spoon for spoon they stretch and strive,
De'il take the hindmost, on they drive,
Till all their well-filled bellies blithe
Are bent like drums;
Then old goodman, most like to cleft,
Thanksgiving hums.
Is there one that over his French wines,
Or pot luck that is fit for swines,
Or a fricassee that would make them writhe
With perfect dudgeon,
Who'd look down with sneering, scornful view
On such a dinner!
Poor devil! See him over his trash,
As ineffectual as a withered rush,
His scrawny leg a good whip-lash,
His fist a peach pit:
Though bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But a country lad who's haggis-fed;
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his massive fist a blade,
He'll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will rend,
Like tops of thistles.
You Powers who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no stinking ware
That slops in dishes;
But if you want her gratefull prayer,
Give her a haggis.
hiama, Bobby wrote that? Son-of-a-gun! UhOh! back to the books. A delightful poem coming from the stereotypical "dour" Scotsman.
Love it, and thanks.
Loads more were that came from, one time at a big function my boss of the time delivered the Selkirk grace, which given out in a proper scottish accent was stunningly beautiful and though we were in a vast London Emporium amongst us sassenachs it went down a bomb.
Does anyone out there know what artist hid the number 9 in his drawings?
ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT-SO-EVER!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
I've tried and I've tried but I can not find it -was it Picasso ?
hiama, little wonder that you couldn't find the painter, since I gave you a wrong steer.
The artist included "ninas" in his drawing.
Incidentally, I'll give you the right steer now. It's the black angus I've turned out to pasture named Al
Another "oops". The steer is named Al not the pasture. If there's one thing that I hate, it's misplaced modifiers
I should have guessed, it's Al Hirschfeld
In how many different places did Padmasambhava hide his writings in Tibet ?
