Yep, it must be a sunny day in Dublin because I am as full as a fat girl's socks on barbequed food, belching gassy lager fumes, and possibly suffering third degree sunburn.
Long weekends don't come very often, we're told. Neither do ones which happen to co-incide with a blue sky unaccompanied by frost. But the stars were right and every house up and down the road is empty except for the back gardens which are now inhabited by lobser-looking people dining on the lawn or patio or muddy puddle.
In keeping with tradition, any doctor's surgery which opens on the Bank Holiday Monday shall be full to bursting with the food-or alcohol poisoned, the sun-struck and those who have gone mildly insane from the lack of Sunday-before-back-to-work Monday stress. I shall not be one of them, I hope.
Image from www.allposters.com
6 comments:
Sitting in the room at the back of the house reserved for drinking and toking. Candles lit. Skin cooling. Listening to some obscure BBC radio. Kids settled in bed. Hot-water-a-plenty for my little treat (I love having a hot shower late in the evening).
All I know about tomorrow is that the sun will definitely rise. That is enough for me.
My feet : http://img217.imageshack.us/img217/4678/04060622118bc.jpg
hmm. those candles are toasty.
Alas, your feet don't show up, but it's probably just all the smoke from the toke...
be thankful for small mercies. imageshack saved the day
As it often does
I think the world needs to see my feet
http://img107.imageshack.us/img107
/3426/04060622113dz.jpg
You could wear socks instead of toasting them in front of those open flames, you know.
Post a Comment