General Chat

I once did an excellent Mason jar!

Watercolour class, the instructor stuck an orange in the top of the jar and said to paint it, and too late said not to bother with the jar, that was too hard. Of course I would have anyway.

Well my jar was fabulous, but everybody insisted my orange was a peach.

I detest the colour orange, so there was no way I was about to paint an orange blob. I saw the green and brown undertones, so that's what my orange was about. ;)

there now Janey, I might take up painting again, I do a better wine glass ;-)

Danny Boy is ok....but Raglan Road by Luke Kelly gets me every time...*sniffs.....

ah i don't know about that BC, Danny Boy is hard to beat....

Especially for you and the pooch then

http://www.imagekind.com/Black-Dog-Shares-Red-Wine-art?IMID=ec19fd39-5b88-4362-8ee6-28e6fa645e63

:D :D :D :D :D

I am having a Country & Western evening on You Tube....even more self indulgent than Irish music! :D XX BC

Too late for literary oneupmanship...I'm on to listening to Irish music on youtube, the black dog of melancholy sitting quietly at my side.

Canterbury Tales, Canterbury Tales!

... My wits are not the best, you'll understand.
Great cheer our host gave to us, every one,
And to the supper set us all anon;
And served us then with victuals of the best.
Strong was the wine and pleasant to each guest. ...

THE PRIORESS
There was also a nun, a prioress,
Who, in her smiling, modest was and coy;
Her greatest oath was but "By Saint Eloy!"
And she was known as Madam Eglantine.
Full well she sang the services divine,
Intoning through her nose, becomingly;
And fair she spoke her French, and fluently,
After the school of Stratford-at-the-Bow,
For French of Paris was not hers to know.
... Her upper lip was always wiped so clean
That in her cup was no iota seen
Of grease, when she had drunk her draught of wine.
Becomingly she reached for meat to dine. ...

THE FRANKLIN
There was a franklin in his company;
White was his beard as is the white daisy.
Of sanguine temperament by every sign,
He loved right well his morning sop in wine. ...

THE SAILOR
There was a sailor, living far out west;
For aught I know, he was of Dartmouth town.
... Full many a draught of wine he'd drawn, I trow,
Of Bordeaux vintage, while the trader slept.
Nice conscience was a thing he never kept.
If that he fought and got the upper hand,
By water he sent them home to every land. ...

THE SUMMONER
A summoner was with us in that place,
Who had a fiery-red, cherubic face,
For eczema he had; his eyes were narrow
As hot he was, and lecherous, as a sparrow;
... And drinking of strong wine as red as blood.
Then would he talk and shout as madman would.
And when a deal of wine he'd poured within,
Then would. he utter no word save Latin. ...

Thunder and lightning down on the beach

Me and my boyfriend got five cents each.
Got to learn to keep moving on

got to learn to keep grooving on.
Got to learn to keep moving on

got to learn to keep grooving on.

Red wine and whisky all the time.
We had a lot of money but we blew it down the line.
We'd love to take you out tonight but we haven't got a dime.
Red wine and whisky all the time - all the time.

We used to ride in style in our rented car.
Now all we do is hang out down at the bar.
Got to learn to keep moving on

got to learn to keep grooving on.
Got to learn to keep moving on

got to learn to keep grooving on.

Red wine and whisky
All the time. . . .



Cautionary tales, cautionary tales.

damn!
lol

Oh right, literary oneupwomanship then. ;)

Fix those colons, willya??

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.

Ernest Dowson

And *of course*


The days of wine and roses laugh and run away like a child at play
Through a meadow land toward a closing door
A door marked "nevermore" that wasn't there before

The lonely night discloses just a passing breeze filled with memories
Of the golden smile that introduced me to
The days of wine and roses and you

(The lonely night discloses) just a passing breeze filled with memories
Of the golden smile that introduced me to
The days of wine and roses and you

So, who wrote Red Red Wine?

The question seems to be the stuff of fistfights ...

"It is intended to be a little more sophisticated than boards"

No, that's truly pretty funny.

All I see on this blogs business is a bunch of promotional bumph about the stupid TV show.

Comments don't seem to be enabled, so I guess that ensures that we riffraff aren't hanging around there, thus keeping it "sophisticated".

Unlike the multiple complex actual family history questions that get resolved here daily ... or at least used to, before the site management gave up all semblance of interest in that end of the operation and brought in the gawdawful living relatives thing that is sounding the death knell for the help boards ...

Drink with me to days gone by
Sing with me the songs we knew
Here´s to pretty girls
Who went to our heads
Here´s to witty girls
Who went to our beds
Here´s to them
And here´s to you

Drink with me to days gone by
To the life that used to be
At the shrine of friendship
Never say die
Let the wine of friendship
Never run dry
Here´s to you
And here´s to me

Janey should you look back here ( the wine is taking effect so I may be a little unclear) but may I direct your good self to the thread 'Blog'...I partcularly like this remark therein " It is intended to be a little more sophisticated than boards," maybe it is the wine that makes that so amusing :D

Red, red wine
Goes to my head
Makes me forget that I
Still need her so

Red, red wine
It`s up to you
All I can do I`ve done
memories won`t go
memories won`t go

I just thought that with time
Thoughts of you would leave my head
I was wrong, now I find
Just one thing makes me forget

Red, red wine
Stay close to me
Don`t let me be in love
It`s tearin` apart
My blue, blue heart

I just thought that with time
Thoughts of you would leave my head
I was wrong now I find
Just one thing makes me forget

Red, red wine
Stay close to me
Don't let me be in love
It's tearin' apart
My blue, blue heart

"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"