tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50994978184575313992024-03-13T05:34:34.099+00:00here is a b♥x, a ♫♪ musical ♪♫ b♥xthis box can hide a secret insideI, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.comBlogger1333125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-65070895880309117382010-03-23T19:02:00.007+00:002010-06-01T13:02:50.494+01:00<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">spend all your time waiting for that second chance<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451888377380228770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckfnEqHVzqnSnY1ewgybaBe49Jhs9VAn9QOsyeYYd4IKILLN0_rCN566I7BZIA6W5UoIW21-okzjKrDI3klYtrHr0cjq0Dgq4nDghX6ZNd_DN3kyxuYP7i2oJtoHBbtfKbHZ0aLAwnLQ/s400/angel+Weeping.jpg" /> for the break that will make it ok<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451901012216006610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEkn9GZtpEo33kSSHce5OKhMDKT4wVuYnY6HoKdMppst1uskGP4J3d-2-BkUPCZlElCaymv5QrQ7sHF7SwW10IrLABU583aCotgJyrlWbO8g-AvdoEN2iHBlr1ccjLJ2-kwL4L3a5N3A/s400/head+3.jpg" />there's always some reason to feel not good enough<br />and it's hard at the end of the day<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 310px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451892114348503810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMemKPHMXZaTGxC5cVP6Sd11UxaB0EtjTcRbkAdnfAIUmUEVBn8Ymb11HZW8urXzhz72xD0tImIjqUX3ih7E2v1qJKavNUwdm9WufTgtDBQ5ZP-GzjgdZgNUkBQ_aEBUe1eCSkGqP0OSw/s400/empty+table.jpg" />I need some distraction, oh beautiful release<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451888365735489698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTX4GFtlGu0ZWaGChbsu1bsM826VCgOK78ah_vwM-MH9odwiqJyrkrIEtDqtvQ_hUMX_Py6W3Un_L4rTid_N15WUzc0WjQ6DeLECEAKcjjnWQeWw_EyD9erKmWEchNx0fT-VrmYTARGA/s400/angel.jpg" /> memories seep from my veins <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451892126439733826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcR5pnnrMV9f7Jc8Y5Dm_MC-P93Q2xPonMNB-ZEvvpLx6zMPpHs7LJ1rAWXXbirO5WJeoykzafQct3El3ZI0fN7AvHS34h12zU5nGyXPhhckx-jkN-Lo-mlPR07qzDmadAeaGeL_LEwTI/s400/empty+bed.jpg" />they may be empty and weightless, and maybe<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451888373930952946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx4DaHgtp_eZ_4t1jwBxIvhkuP7DAnoHlgu7A6dKFDNiXwHkH98hstM0cDgxiSbGxXM3mrflY7Lzh2ARPFgBZwx6HV48MO8jGlpmhovsgZI0pdAkE6ZKrm53tEAHhHMF3q_FD2YD4ggMY/s400/angel+stone.jpg" />I'll find some peace tonight<br /><br />in the arms of an angel, fly away from here <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452193557822722930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFw9pvlOYl7M6m-Wln-FDL_TKlHxJ08R1hj0s1Y3rysLwxC-a7X0w8gLWs_-IsGyelPzMVTFiT6IPkQMKOLi19rCpAxJHmo4maja-XN7IMkaOEcwiZjnhZdR7kCXgpODvj8l9HydV3DgU/s400/wim.jpg" />from this dark, cold room, and the endlessness that you fear<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889916086023154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEh0dDVnZ4kTzRxsdx5TvSHB8eywh2kMk-aZPAgxmMWkvqbQP8ePe3EbuNEIL2imQHlglt6fhUu3OntAcHhnRfDs188i6PM66PzEIFcA_OGSVrwZWOFPyPqgh43R6BHv-PBiXhSxOLoY0/s400/empty2.jpg" />you are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 325px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451903609731471906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglF6DFshj3jncn_m7WvYhxB6iqD5Jwqf-f-QwxC7nsb0Z6zsjnq-ERxyiENQaXzFnr19L0heZ73U-L7y8elA1Rb5vH40eN4nJ4z6vjxbzFA3AH92FaCZCagtHO7To3K3wmOZSN248DC3k/s400/sleepless+bed.jpg" />you're in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 169px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889920867376162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFzuXM8iXeDUUMn1qHZRsieureWT1tkLK8YvvWksThWzSZjaw9sOdcNjd2rNwFTLfbUK-V_eeCz5MViCezYPMB7shBG53C1vBNhPSY8Wrbxg1ZwW-6UseSjk3-mAK13x7GO_SQJFtrig/s400/eglos+angel.jpg" />so tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 369px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451889894566281490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuPivD89ACcVNObfufnYoaYV3xwwnERkSZC891EHuPUnJjIOyAcVCR0qSgLFey60c9pfzOzWvVfpisEhwPmUYXobJ_fUhiJKBn02-91RbekFIDcAvf-EDbK6HXS8zuqvjDziRT1djpTo/s400/Antony+Gormley+Another+Place.jpg" />there's vultures and thieves at your back<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451901002896045266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZHSVhJKW6mgob-imNAyIQPhKfvY0fui1wUyhyp3xt90HI12PaBJ6bHXLJF084Xs6AMOXRQOeRKTSNG19goZpyIlUySYojKMKF2HeBZy5hgX0iBetNHM50qjk-uE1h1Mr_sIJzfUwu2A/s400/head+in+hands.jpg" />the storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 313px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451888800870920770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhc2tGldSkowycJy3DBEMMD7JPlxzOghX0TXbxqstnXJlIru1q4EWem8kvV3r8s7enmrqLKzGmHeoiFOGIMpEkmDXLa5fPOLBrsqVlYWai0f55xyp_rmj42FzNc7SwAajEX0uP_NXrI04/s400/cloud+angel.jpg" />that you make up for all that you lack <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451893548270711058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwF8PPJ2jRIKeJBVToav40W0WLd0z4cOUG1uxbsp4QwAB3bLmVa_ko0bWu5VvoKZo296tpOPth2PLc7EIGWNy0MOfIrqxx6Ei1uGvNL9TjcoaF3Ji9dsCUgA7fycXTbaZZXCP04XrlIg/s400/empty.jpg" />it don't make no difference, escaping one last time<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451893557619687266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZNJ_8fyKKvtbp2jAx8HKs0rdAsir2SZCgqWYOZ_Ao1ezm6vLK-32BaWxKdsbTKItfyn3Lk-VCiag0cUU80L1Sci5DZf5d2m2FOlSUM70hCFQttMNsDfpLNgCJV5ow0KYHzqsGoA-7BA/s400/eternal+knot.jpg" />it's easier to believe in this sweet madness <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 242px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451888797131419986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvrNm7PZY2-qXuwtJVnnmc7se3-MdJGTlXwuNHqL7ikHkhngTUewAz8F3VdyXiQ2_2D81TgmNRAimF6Jbmj35ahl8WrNtixH8g_wNFzgeD3bXNR3eBgmS3a3mqxKRXEi1aSbW86WsE2U/s400/fallen+angel+chalk+wings.jpg" />oh this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees<br /><br />in the arms of an angel<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451893538395293858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVeZpkftmiTNBRAyQ5zlQdrYiBj867GTe7D66MLEcfeNnezltImSRrDmJ4eD-m2IqGubnTYaQUflX43j2biQkFUOfvDkSPTwNd5udyPXid0iSjRilKP2U8HgDDatpg61SBIb_cmx0neD8/s400/Falling+angel.jpg" /> far away from here, from this dark, cold room,<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451893542553218066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6iF8MHpLfFwotZb0XHpK6s_0IvAy73iSmfH2GUfRVF2qNCTyWEhLxgQ5DvDr1G5cV6R8yL7XHhgUm0qkSQ9GULvBYD5f88HMtmqfqFMZGF7VhTIb-o2qGIzQH1zLp1x5V7zhm6s0wJg/s400/empty+bed2.jpg" />and the endlessness that you fear <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451893554470659826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uOJfD05hmhV6p6eKcgxj_BxpBhVeGN3f77zaWZUVHcYdpvbzG4JMXSfF2eYVLLIvn6Nz2kVZCyslWG5M1z3GZzbCyPuQWEvCorYt0u2CTJKvpXPzLP972c0UJSk-EaLPqHleVZRUWRo/s400/feet.jpg" />you are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT43ZSpql4PlVDZRiG17L9LJVPvSEPVOme759KUGpMJYZa9WKw0EdSCBb7ZA-7orV983_4aDy4NHLaVWkYe2rfp2PnFeXfYAxvhu8CWY7eI_xWAPUgRO4-5QZR4Xs9O9TYXeuAAUaEnU/s1600-h/angel+card.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 399px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 349px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451906015453926434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT43ZSpql4PlVDZRiG17L9LJVPvSEPVOme759KUGpMJYZa9WKw0EdSCBb7ZA-7orV983_4aDy4NHLaVWkYe2rfp2PnFeXfYAxvhu8CWY7eI_xWAPUgRO4-5QZR4Xs9O9TYXeuAAUaEnU/s400/angel+card.jpg" /></a> in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here<br /><br /></span></em><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnL1e4-NfaA&feature=related"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"><em>SARAH MCLACHLAN</em></span></strong></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-20341357533891485302009-06-25T14:48:00.008+01:002009-11-02T23:48:32.371+00:00<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall,<br />And the bells in the steeple too,<br />And up in the nursery an absurd little bird<br />Is popping out to say "Cuckoo",<br /><strong>Cuckoo, cuckoo!</strong></span></em></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351262227893923602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio9FwpxHnyJM-5yloZIAexd4d2oY7JIiGWhcqA3pKPkzCwGmmU0xIbMiF31LE47LscQ0TWHVHNWHU4M47gpQ2mnNUQC-OuKk2P_BBBIkAUfCXi-Pz8iTQIfHPG0ykO6AzjKKkxlGfOakQ/s400/cuckoo+clock.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Regretfully they tell us<br /><strong>Cuckoo, cuckoo!<br /></strong>But firmly they compel us<br /><strong>Cuckoo, cuckoo!<br /></strong>To say goodbye . . .<br /><strong>Cuckoo!<br /></strong>.. . to you<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good night<br />I hate to go and leave this pretty sight</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351265102187118370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP6yVRTIfeH_SLWJ6_RUht4qUgzgXn_IZTJpetU64Du7IkyC_8aK90LRsImXkar390ZBFrukxSvW_MR7ZOJztjc-ZL2ZYOypNTCV-HrRzWqxNXME4GcLQJ1il35YjwcLITkzZcppr0ds/s400/ballroom.bmp" border="0" /> <p align="center">So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu<br />Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu<br />So long, farewell, au revoir, auf wiedersehen<br />I'd like to stay and taste my first champagne. . .</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351262826607612338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbE3U0IylpDFBWMYHY76YDLVQqWuEXnyiS24uOGdT_EpCCY-oh4vua_pA7tz16Ycl6pF1m1KKoWwyoMH4-kzkgK0kLekpVSoVRlKrEWdN6THB6vvZ982X_i877JuIGNGAMtDBb4nWHm8/s400/champagne+popping.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye<br />I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye - Goodbye!<br />I'm glad to go, I cannot tell a lie<br />I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351263880061484546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihZ_FN8SJcgxvulmXsl-g9bWLYGIGzbqX4mR2dbTS2i1LZ8KaROIyqgkZZMsy6sRdusMjX3fT4zFi3yXehX06Ak9ruFc2jRBWRDnha6-e8pN6g4ONJGQAGAwLUMcn0C28YddK2wtyE5No/s400/magic_carpet_02.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">The sun has gone to bed and so must I</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351263453025097378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTqvLZp2QNmPmHJnmB5BoKKt36YcXtHCy9EF15Btvofb9QLyDWojwS37wrpsCUHfv-s89JrAfCL2RbfH9q4hSw-exwVss6sDMar723g8zutL_zb2FYUuOR1pfJx6SXLQC6HYLEw3TaAig/s400/dawn+or+sunset.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye<br />Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. . . </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351264955431182242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvz6bVFHC8HNTkC7CFPlgc0wipgnoo2MFNR9DVmZ_r1bDV7HVinx9uDh17pXmbtw66J2Zh5Bb0KG8vmwpHMFNP0XK1xS_U-Qh4Ql2FC-9pRkRaYO2f6cJmU2AwIoKQPElgOvV_1Kt-pc/s400/maria.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong>Goodbye!</strong></span></em></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-32490306388422060542009-06-24T16:13:00.009+01:002009-06-24T17:03:47.447+01:00dolce far niente<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">(the sweetness of doing nothing)</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350917060296035858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5F4gmPauLDdpYuCR2jgNLPWdqZ8XhMNP_oswqyLhQ2zIa-d7Xn5LyAxMh65AnV7HztRANU8CGNwru8Mf7FLPLD2CUxShpX0F64gWTXbohwPXOrL33IQwaKs_k4friN9Bc_Q2QGPi8zg/s400/waterhouse+circe.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>Circe</em></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">(she's not doing nothing, she's busy being the daughter of the sun, a sorceress best known for her ability to turn men into animals with her magic wand and also renowned for her knowledge of magic and poisonous herbs)</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350916507685441586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlLQAYwVgB_uKHCuS7NHcHoH1aFKt-De9XNW5sXVL5VxjAsHHAL6FwI6M0LM3N__C-ijvsJFXGA-SEA0vA6Si2NMBWs0K31PNS7BRSSa6m59EB5QJoQCJ26PG_Ujd4jZ0Diq5FnxhjPc4/s400/waterhouse+destiny2.bmp" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em>Destiny</em></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">(she's not doing nothing, she's busy being a contemplative female at the center of an ambiguous allegorical scene, a beautiful woman staring into the distance; in front of her, an open book, behind her, a large circular mirror - which has an interesting compositional effect: it drastically limits the depth of the scene and blocks the view of the room and of the exterior natural space. . . however, it simultaneously serves as a sort of window because it shows a view of the world outside) (altho the scene seems straightforward, it is filled with inconsistencies and impossibilities and there are many spatial discrepancies - for example, a globe that is reflected in the mirror does not appear in the actual room! the image in the mirror is not realistic: it represents either an unknown future or more likely a vision experienced by the woman with the cup. . . the title of the work, "Destiny," supports this)</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350916592242228034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUFWu4QYQrvt-vPbpLUR4hSFQK5FEtUQVNvniTRiMbIOzu-tt3OFfE7C99IMIQ_Q3jJAuBoS6gxEG6GCYlDQik9TIrmBhlhJAJ73IGve9T3VP-2UcQlcrD6mlVKa2uxbUks-rNFvACxU/s400/waterhouse+psyche+box2.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em>Psyche Opening The Golden Box</em></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">(she's not busy doing nothing, she's busy being the bride of Cupid and at the same time being seriously troubled. . . her mind seems full of doubts and dread as to whom she is sharing her life with - why can’t she ever see him? is he really a beast who, as her sisters have warned, will one night kill her in her sleep? here we see her with an enchanted vessel that Venus has ordered her to fetch from Proserpine, from which Psyche hopes to steal a bit of allure and thus regain the love of Cupid)</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350916764670864130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvCmhyE4rtBn85WKuD-sM8EPzfDUFUuePosUSkT5BOIforJDxYI5T7zxcp62ufAcehH-rZN6pHiE-sZZ-Mrm5zRaZ88Dslf30mv1_YQRBX8RJXaW-lraOiHBI3-81BV6EDiN-Bb-5b_M/s400/waterhouse+circe+invidiosa.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em>Circe Invidiosa</em></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">(she's not doing nothing, she's being a Victorian femme fatale and is in the act of posoining the water that her rival is bathing in. . .)</span></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350917406846582866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4FdMBFU9ZGFYS3ub0-qgC5XJElUdK5j4uFuPP8OqBinhVsjSEa82Gr183dWGm0sAbExqiddx2GtgWp2U01nUW2-ZkZhiFuwjWJlY7hHHhxe5gvVljfQGejNxqdT7eFGrZ0zQCp7cFiM/s400/waterhouse+crystal+ball.jpg" border="0" /><em>The Crystal Ball</em></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">(she's not doing nothing, she's busy with a crystal ball - crystal balls being used for the process of "seeing", known as "scrying": a magic practice that involves clairvoyance in a medium, usually for purposes of obtaining spiritual visions and more rarely for purposes of divination or fortune-telling. . .)</span></p><p align="justify">(<strong><em>no</em>, I wasn't busy doing nothing;</strong> <em><strong>yes</strong>, I went to another exhibition</em>! once again at the Royal Academy, but this time <a href="http://www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibitions/waterhouse/"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">John William Waterhouse</span></strong></a>; as you know, I love the Pre-Raphaelites. . .)</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-53459231373258204762009-06-22T20:00:00.013+01:002009-06-23T10:05:07.639+01:00you saw, he's sore, we all saw the<div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">eyesore?</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350229186881310642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 321px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORgZ8LmY02UyP0YRfCbR-BSprZqjaRctkATukCDJq_VM8djhrdFdI5MmnIUVxLDDU4T68faCTz_UVRLYxhdekGzv9PwaZpxqi8zMO-J-zbZ7Tvj2G6HgX6mlC-7-axLkqctLb34Skapo/s400/eyesaw2.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="justify">this evening <strong>The Teen</strong> and the other two and I all went up to town to a really interesting live art event. . .<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350230790170586834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQkRqNs6vbfO0KPxLqen8CwwZOC8uNxpqx4JjxuQCm8ptM0J8pbEK-pGW5IdGDt7mYEtX3nuAFTTZM-mXBDdgp0mfa6GxP2Cyx_sdvKZznqiQ00s8_WEcW1M9WPby8QEp6hpiuFucQts/s400/RAH+load.jpg" border="0" />. . .which took place, on one day only, in the loading bay underneath the <a href="http://www.royalalberthall.com/tickets/LOAD/default.aspx"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Royal Albert Hall</span></strong></a></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350230350462912082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYrVOa4Tne_ZLhBfUfskIcFQRxZq2rJhYn4d0MIuBy1FQ2IjObrkFp19_aKuaAjxp7-H0JvhOvZKuyTkQCS6cXwZ-1nItwKlIwo7-NfiAiG_3YQr7qhHVTc7vCRz2yvKk8ChOdXNfq3pU/s400/RAH+front.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify">now, you may or may not know, but the RAH is a round building and we had to walk 360 degrees, ending up where we'd started, before we found the loading bay. . .<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350230201727915794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9LU4X6S9QSunp-nikx0H80i-5ApMhNOW7hcoH0npn7suyMhQV-GeXirSnMmep9hhR3t9R7WLBRhvtB_ROBWuANpBaxlWqFS3QZ2dirRa3ERWCmHeveMsY1xLmI38MM5keq3_sf97_8A/s400/RAH+back.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center"><em>(. . .under these steps)</em></p><div align="justify">now, you may or may not think that graffiti <em>is </em>art*, but what we saw was very inspiring and quite beautiful</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350233913127651698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 385px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AHvfe3UWv-pJCgBcSaSAzQk1ovyOfE1gvzb0Bb6dbR3lDYBj8DQmhNwq6rs3pJvn0OKx_JYHMA9ut1HdgyTqsr7UO3naUoaBh-GUIz3ChBQohsbI_thcO1IQMufR4i8KRV_B60nWd48/s400/RAH+LOAD_4.jpg" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">(it took - I believe - four days hard graft<br />by nine individuals to accomplish)<br /></span></em></div><div align="justify"><br />as the following indicates, by a graffer (graffiti artist) named EyeSaw. . .<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350229116541140114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 394px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZGBzMURBifb1km6aptG8cjLU69blXvKC91-jhqV2f-JBdj7h05Mk65V3JrE5c7sIekI-iUcuXtgQ1givPTfn8BEGafcYaMXTDxhyt2AWphdjz_celUV6OH-X9DCAi9DLAET19XBLibs/s400/EYESAW.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">(I think he was inspired by Rockwell, don't you?<br />strange, to think that Rockwell might have inspired graffiti, eh)</p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">(*altho I'm not going to debate that here**<br />or start a discussion or argument. . .)<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;">(**despite the label)</span></em></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-75283066314390268242009-06-20T20:56:00.002+01:002009-06-20T21:11:37.267+01:00<div align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul, </span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">to those who long for death that does not come,<br />who search for it more than for hidden treasure,<br />who are filled with gladness and rejoice when they reach the grave?<br />For sighing comes to me instead of food; my groans pour out like water.<br />What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me.<br />I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil.<br /><br />Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea<br />or walked in the recesses of the deep?<br />Have the gates of death been shown to you?<br />What is the way to the abode of light?<br />And where does darkness reside?<br />Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth?<br /><br />Tell me, if you know all this.<br /><br /><strong>JOB</strong></span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-67720100863174501132009-06-20T13:32:00.001+01:002009-06-20T13:37:01.058+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBqsaiZbqaTc4huUtD4vZ8j5ZfytfLlMiAQq7N5t-49S_SzA92KpW61jEbJ687hwxo-9tYKLskcSNZgxRj8t_7oktAFsf6ji4aMNK_Y1wM5rA_S-L6pxHb3KkUn2u084LuAbrdun2bOU/s1600-h/Landy+no+frills.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349387384938996738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBqsaiZbqaTc4huUtD4vZ8j5ZfytfLlMiAQq7N5t-49S_SzA92KpW61jEbJ687hwxo-9tYKLskcSNZgxRj8t_7oktAFsf6ji4aMNK_Y1wM5rA_S-L6pxHb3KkUn2u084LuAbrdun2bOU/s400/Landy+no+frills.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div></div><p align="center"><strong>Michael Landy</strong></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">(not the piece from the RA Summer Exhibition,<br />but pretty similar)</span></em></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-28511517968434924612009-06-18T16:21:00.012+01:002009-06-20T13:36:22.121+01:00Friday morning at the RA<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">(at the 241st summer exhibition) <em>(to be exact)</em><br /></span><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690196476407570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdz4CZBh9wrxBg4lDrQGBe6qry3FlJ5au9rk1bXXvQvnJKFWGbsvR7SnpuqkQy5t_Dk9O5PZHY9SHp8u7P6Lk1aQ8Q35jDw5So7B5hL59RchWqulxdRGVG8c_hlJSmzyHdXn_UJ9JEPY/s400/RA+forecourt.jpg" border="0" />as you walk into Burlington House. . .<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690495070068194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 91px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyphYwxIdWLipGo4JMb9Nr25dIy8eUBs58G24wulGQJAWzj3zyykJY812udssDi945OIBHjvMVp4onkzUxiZtVFwdUCvg3eKJHshLTe5l5nnakKiEy5cvDtcbIHNtxLUBVZ1yp96tA8sA/s400/ra+forecourt2.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="justify">. . .take a moment to admire your reflection in the silvery sculpture, which is set amongst the courtyard's fountains - notice that they reflect the pattern of the planets in relation to the stars at the birth of Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first president of the Royal Academy, on 16 July 1723. . .<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690585404184130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 331px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4BET5c4zuIJd3R3U6ofXicqm0X06HIZY4mHtMH505zZW7uvZYDTijC6hiqERM0-Ew5ex7BQGNjea-5WAgpaGt-OWV2YS0UjuRF1KADw_fAqps4xsk6ifV_uk262cD7C-FCz945d54Oc/s400/humphrey+ocean+love+chair.jpg" border="0" />. . .seat yourself comfortably in<br /><strong>Humprey Ocean's</strong> <em>Love Chair</em>. . .<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690742864240210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 331px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZZOJRm5e8X0AOyaltKwJinZfBYlcR26Pz4yQO5Ncm8aho8mxW4yBhfL48h4dtESDnUYpprcscBADz2hJE1dbWFfxGL39FToqGXaJrcwzsIzk2J_u7y5bjBjb7sqSA4zRah4jRfHGJtQc/s400/donald+hamilton+fraser+2.jpg" border="0" />. . .look up and admire one of<br /><strong>Donald Hamilton Fraser's</strong><br />blood red skies. . .<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348691081946760242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYmT1ozrrlu7-6qIuORiiSZ2gkrR1OC2ffo06mYlNT2Ca63eYl5A-bOlMf6dgrwzWhWj-2_rxGVO8OXHLj5WdwauBo_F7UCr2_du69GlyyzZHnAcs6o4M4Xsqm0qYJNuMm9i3LTuQNnM/s400/fred+cuming+hastings+pier.jpg" border="0" />. . .or perhaps it's a cloudy sky,<br />as frequently painted so sensitively by</div><div align="center"><strong>Fred Cuming</strong>. . .<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx9XNU5t2VUAMEHV4skEL4irgwKZoBhtZkYICTp7IIxDntkgdb_uGrGEgH9W8fZJeQn0SFQtsXC6UDd8DXdPuUEfUDxtzgemFrcMKjodGlyWvHUObVRceKYU0vyCJSUeXDykfBTbRayw/s1600-h/fedden+sleeping+cat.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690388556870130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx9XNU5t2VUAMEHV4skEL4irgwKZoBhtZkYICTp7IIxDntkgdb_uGrGEgH9W8fZJeQn0SFQtsXC6UDd8DXdPuUEfUDxtzgemFrcMKjodGlyWvHUObVRceKYU0vyCJSUeXDykfBTbRayw/s400/fedden+sleeping+cat.bmp" border="0" /></a>. . .when you're comfortable, pour yourself some tea from<br /><strong>Mary Fedden's</strong> <em>Sleeping Cat</em>. . .<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348690922086125794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_YhHIJzzQ72TRtpvtCGbI76YYxInsE2Q8TCQ4K41BmL1TL3F788BFiJwrMbp_fAjZrdp1B2ORg3BFc1EQfkays6EJgTCgbk3k-Kcjbrp6rw-jqbreSzYi4uRTkYWnVMyKyhNiQky_dk/s400/fedden+still+life.jpg" border="0" />. . .and perhaps help yourself to a slice of fruit<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">(-:</span></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />(of course, you could always just stick to the coffee and Crunchies) (<strong>X</strong>)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-52967592483585081552009-06-13T13:44:00.008+01:002009-06-13T14:18:42.188+01:00doctor! doctor!<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">give me the news. . .</span><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzd-Nr7lFrzBqfbtQBLzCtwI3TIwJbVdlJlFqhjCZ_RyHmfVpDEYwo_7H4iXS1vLOjuCRKJKDEXmASWYzajeuCmQlTXfwknbhgZfZr5iQr1F4Kkw3XGzdx8j_sj4tLqkzh8vnBxlgaMds/s1600-h/housemd2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346793359886223074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzd-Nr7lFrzBqfbtQBLzCtwI3TIwJbVdlJlFqhjCZ_RyHmfVpDEYwo_7H4iXS1vLOjuCRKJKDEXmASWYzajeuCmQlTXfwknbhgZfZr5iQr1F4Kkw3XGzdx8j_sj4tLqkzh8vnBxlgaMds/s400/housemd2.jpg" border="0" /></a>so, having outgrown <strong>The Simpsons</strong> and <strong>Malcolm In The Middle</strong>, having seen <em>Every Single Episode Ever Made</em> of <strong>Futurama</strong> and <strong>South Park</strong>, not quite sharing my obsession for <strong>Frasier</strong> (altho still probably having seen <em>ESEEM</em>) but working their way thru all the available <strong>Scrubs</strong>, my three are now obsessed (yes, "obsessed" <em><strong>is</strong></em> the operative word) with <strong>House MD. . .<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></strong></div><div></div><div>. . .let me indulge myself with some visual candy for a moment<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span> </div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346793426184502962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_KN5jXlT68CuDu10qwkrImpJbNjTGaUSx94YmmE7voL6uXE1gF_eaRUajJ9GFvVSLFDEw2yKLGN6XUmkXYtu37bTKsEnHVVaZmhms3JSlIg6jABhF7V_rF2JM4HGH2-t7q3_etyn_m4/s400/houseMD.jpg" border="0" /><strong><em>hmmmmmmmmmm. . .<br /></em></strong><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgab7p0-Znrq3KBmU8PPJrbhIW9RsHS02PYkCWdvfQAWIu3oBfqthOaHov3F421KtqIFHO4Wz6ZMMyVoVSrdvFgeAygZtfo0S5NxRLwszOG-rn_cTLdO1IcaGcjpotT7-82FDY2qnZGEMU/s1600-h/housemd4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346793301453093922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgab7p0-Znrq3KBmU8PPJrbhIW9RsHS02PYkCWdvfQAWIu3oBfqthOaHov3F421KtqIFHO4Wz6ZMMyVoVSrdvFgeAygZtfo0S5NxRLwszOG-rn_cTLdO1IcaGcjpotT7-82FDY2qnZGEMU/s400/housemd4.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em><strong>hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. . .<br /></strong></em><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G9vnBz5xJYLZXGrldnkHIUtc09LzVohqsnRvJUScuvCrKelGU8LyAECRdQwfJsZ9CkztyQJjMeZGgl018NKgOwpt2BshdWNMvY58EJuABnM9fsXHBT4WT5DgPlKTLKNBwAIAqD35Cu4/s1600-h/housemd3.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346793232089052418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G9vnBz5xJYLZXGrldnkHIUtc09LzVohqsnRvJUScuvCrKelGU8LyAECRdQwfJsZ9CkztyQJjMeZGgl018NKgOwpt2BshdWNMvY58EJuABnM9fsXHBT4WT5DgPlKTLKNBwAIAqD35Cu4/s400/housemd3.bmp" border="0" /></a><em><span style="font-size:78%;"> (ok,<br />so that last one was just a shot of Cuddy's cleavage,<br />but there you go)</span></em></div><div></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />I think he is my perfect man<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></strong> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">(of course, Niles <em>still </em>hits the tops spot really, I'm just a tad distracted in all honesty) (and, back to <strong>House</strong>, I can't help thinking that really the acting of the main character is just Laurie doing a very clever combination of <strong>Jeeves and Wooster</strong>) (<em><strong>just</strong></em> probably not being the operative word - the man is clearly very talented and has been for a long, long time)<br /><br /><em>anyhow, less of that<br /></em><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">yesterday I went to the <strong>Royal Academy's 241st Summer Exhibition<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong></strong></div><div align="justify"><strong><em>(of which more later)</em></strong></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-2557907153926270792009-06-12T09:43:00.005+01:002009-06-12T09:45:43.990+01:00life's a bowl of<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">cherries. . .</span><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346359032904037874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaN3ONok1m1Hf4VtcjdNz9Ps_DM_bJvbT801DE_EvyFsfOq1H4EfMIO9MNAU716QTjjfHGapAyxGrF6RIqb3KrhuhZ0cLHcLrpKCkhb1Osif2cSY1AOZ4efyLHM8mhk5XVVCSCwNH_pE/s400/cherries.jpg" border="0" /></strong> <p></p><p>(I knew that spittoon would come in useful!) (and of course there's coffee and Crunchies too) (and corn) (of the popping variety)</p><p><strong>XXX</strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-57673328302379206962009-06-11T13:46:00.014+01:002009-06-11T14:17:12.983+01:00<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I. . .<br />don't wanna be adored.<br />Don't wanna be first in line<br />Or make myself heard.<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346051101752186514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8qalshWRb02-yimZcC2nTfN0jW_EdNPwzPf8D4vpAnCD8E6zc7ITrBglT9Hng0423i7wQAf_KWz0pNiyPu2UyUuFRZK8IoXn7b73ddoLa8RXapk-pxNF5B_OaKdZnmDVQxQMDlR4TUG8/s400/sun+beams.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> I'd like to bring a little light<br />To shine a light on your life </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346052701302190290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-YN544InLnOIb4fQ9-L7wNx-nnQFNzXLn0I5Kx5x-CoGI-xASzCXcRv-GdFZZNFHkcSTla1BYFbNtPX0DXcPXUUCZr7PHrRHmbm6cl323RBlIVcCGv4zHK3oNiIrPrBTPTemsWdp9Qc/s400/Cloud+heart.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> To make you feel loved<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>No:</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346053324468863122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-EX-KI7YX4E-k7PwpEmbfqEUU24ZeVglnb9zbkICxyCKF1xdw_XKZDW3pT4sbzaBYGmlmPWBjRcE1WrMGxflWPCe7FgTXKMWP6PBi5WTNVN-j9XmrK4hZkLbmmjiGkwVdk_28olradA/s400/deserted+house.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">Don't wanna be the only one you know. . .</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346052318265945458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpYcCsDMd9sXI4wdZQD392CWoI5QlcSyzdf7sHhzeEWglYpBpKb2pdcfO5R6DdIFPmK_vySrsQemygg8_9uvXrDN9VqTM_wT3yHJsT5P-rnF9-L63M1j43SL_MjG3WmhjtTQpFGKcmzs/s400/candle.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">. . .I wanna be the place you call home.</p><p align="center">I lay myself down<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346056584479988386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTYEf3v0YCxH_RFu83zntrgn6aGd1PYo0RQ2-4ElD6IEpAB-GqH7-RmoKjcwB4enG-_j2h0SckYF4eU2f3PQgMi7ixuJOG7I94Ws-vkWnQKJKwvfrPNu59AYqdIOZ-jqIIByTRqDH7WlE/s400/empty+bed.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />To make it so,<br />But you don't want to know<br />I give much more<br />Than I'd ever ask for.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>Will<br />You see me in the end? </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346056144308931618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQN3UCRJoyHLMEEJs71cTyN3j-FcWZKhQQ6ggyexw3ESImdCHBaGKegZ4JHwV-2mfDE3xy-WfJT7LzW_wIildAup08ExW6Ld3f3arqVOhC1WXV0VANvKsXyV1moKjYhZogP_z1RLoKOs/s400/clockface2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br />Or is it just a waste of time<br />Trying to be your friend?<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />Just shine, shine, shine<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346051501406320306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-AUtKM-QzLv5HJTT98NAKKbBwjM9ADMhbskv7JnDV4Gb6ZIuf6cdMRbTMh_qjXz_QIaKuJzUH7cxxNxzSVtXo47_Rf3hBWNYTZQeruAS4C6XYR6OztWhsT2stBw95hm2udjovkH5r4c/s400/sunshine+thru+trees.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">Shine a little light<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346052006331218642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWyGwp_7f52LNLkZ_83-Ts_tbPJxk2W1jw8bvOqxvIj3JQC3frJHUzP6wgqBAmXK65GBdF4e9V5kW8DKCsrz2W1A2rQmMcl6eTeXRtRcK0r0MrIj08kIv4eFrXfraaIacO1g5ro8OH8ls/s400/sun+rays.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">Shine a light on my life<br />And warm me up again.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>Fool,</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346050935369973826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCepMsAO5FD7b2xHs6b8dB-njllvJC3m6f0IStKuKPmlz_17W99G4qsFdaCqI0Hkt7-d-ZfJwwxuwq9BDZ64XFNgAdusFBzfDJ0c8LbXncyJ1iN8GVjU3Ox8iWNkrKLGSwth7Pu86Gfeo/s400/fool+2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">I wonder if you know yourself at all<br />You know that it could be so simple.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />I lay myself down<br />To make it so</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346053550875287234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaezFRzLIjExFVvzsEJbqIdQLGoysP0i18Dunr3exUA7a2dpSW9qMbBXGGNk4lgAvkBj3v-KaYFQIR86_729pGXkLcLJNcmJJJT1fxOBAm1KLl_JNosWfIawfqANRHsW7cTumME305RSQ/s400/empty+bed2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">But you don't want to know<br />You take much more<br />Than I'd ever ask for.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>Say a word or two. . .<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346057787294877570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgldedUBOtYwvJYW5a1FCi4Dc3DoA78GGe42ERgvXD5UMh8rMiG1TazZxRIWAN1ZfMUvTgh8wJqqTmVNiUqDeAygZm3LHJ7yIVvxWWCngIMVQDsuVkpB6YC5DZuan5Cnis03By92GGx34w/s400/sun+and+waves.jpg" border="0" />. . .To brighten my day.</p><p align="center">D'ya think that you could see your way<br />To lay yourself down. . .<br />And make it so?<br />But you don't want to know.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>You take much more</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346053930412404834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqfK9KahscdUbJDCryl33uzKS0l8EGNsIJhzcMIpeexK0sWOCYuYOI_FLu7qdPprJ98fkQrSOzZP2Rt30_3MGpGiizPq6LtS_-0B2rfm7M_bcsbyQLjjrN9ZgoiFaa6k4JzbJ4yTVqEY/s400/footprints+in+sand.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">Than I'd ever ask for.</span></em></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346057197836834306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 384px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFia8I-b16qZNp6BI3qMg-jTdgwUYlsoFQZazNSHfQIzaD7NITo-R6JCdfAyQydC5czbax_933UY3vmQG3jnwmrEKZFz9Qq51LkRvl5QXUAS99zNuQYQNbAgLIUVYTfVlsAKQ_EXqa4pM/s400/footprints%2520in%2520sand.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7YDQkc76Aw"><span style="color:#ff0000;">KE</span><span style="color:#ff0000;">ANE</span></a></span></em></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-30519423998125595152009-06-11T13:30:00.006+01:002009-06-11T13:45:00.991+01:00yesterday<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">no, not the song, the day</span><br /><div align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />when I was walking from the shops with my groceries</strong> my heavily laden arm brushed against a raggle-taggle honeysuckle plant that was wending its way amongst the hedge above my shoulder</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346047181621805778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuu8a9FR_GXHeDLIsy3TWAfXHpx123NQKNXI89_QkMgpmHz_D24phRzDKL5ZCZm0-dJa4Upnfv6GODejC9jzLHsQqZ1a_da82dk3g80MyAKXzKmjMhPr9DiokJk33eobqh4hHd4ulW_o/s400/honeysuckle.bmp" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">it smelt wonderful!</span></em></p><p align="justify"><strong>and a little further along the road I was walking</strong> my legs brushed against some lavender that was just coming into flower and had been planted so that it stuck out towards the pavement from under the railings of the space at the front of the house I was walking by</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346046936108651218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiepw4vEMV0_6XbWtzWGMlLUSQKCAV_uFX5FZfyzDfXtRupw8-ooQ8xJHkpPo8xllR1PmnumSoRRLVQok36xSxb-7sjOKm2PkZtmOn-8NyWQ_OIoWhR1PgD860QtMpW5y5PM_DMweI9HTM/s400/lavender.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">it smelt wonderful!</span></em></p><p align="justify"><strong>and then</strong> from under the gate of the back garden of one of the houses on my way home, I saw the snouts of two bloodhounds and as I walked past I looked back and saw their eyes curiously watching what was going on in the road from which the gate barred their meanderings (if indeed bloodhounds meander)</p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">they looked so sad. . .</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">. . .but I think that is just the way<br />that bloodhounds look</span></em></p><p align="justify"><strong>and then</strong> when I'd almost reached the house, I heard some birds chirruping in the clear blue sky above me</p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">a beautiful sound!</span></em></p><p align="justify"><strong>and then</strong> two of my three had a series of fights and arguments which lasted the whole evening and I went to bed exhausted and stressed and I completely forgot about the four little things that brought a smile to my face during my day</p><p align="justify"><strong>but I still smiled</strong> as I eventually drifted off to sleep because those I love those three so much and everyday I think how blessed I am to be taking care of them</p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">(-:</span></strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-6584875302244518012009-06-08T12:22:00.004+01:002009-06-08T12:48:37.667+01:00having run out of things that rhyme with oon<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">it's back to the tapestry, momentarily</span><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344916185485499266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgTeJXcPWN0_6wfwadxvL6ScsiFFESrRM17sqa0DokOCvqbNqqe6AkwGLFiLt9kmUimTeYGcHk9fwsbVa2MU_cDO62Cx58uwqVjRvHDeWYNh_tBQVDKvKssBcY-JFBrM1VAz466gGqw4/s400/shaker+village.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="justify">excluding you lovely people, I have three friends who have stuck with me thruout the last two years - thru thick and thin and thinner and non-existantly thinnest, the good and the bad bits and the worse bits and the rock-bottom bits. . . (and I'm kidding about the "good" bits - there weren't any)</p><p align="justify">when I saw the Shaker Village needlepoint (up arrow) I knew it would be the perfect gift for one of them (one of the other two was the happy recipient of the <a href="http://woundupandreadytoplay.blogspot.com/2008/09/moon-river.html"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Fasset Lobster</span></strong></a>; and I don't think the other one would "get" a tapestry gift, so she's not going to get a tapestry gift)</p><p align="justify">having taken a break from the <a href="http://woundupandreadytoplay.blogspot.com/2008/11/fingers-and-fiddlesticks.html"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Klimt</span></strong></a> for a short while, I've now almost finished the village (and <em>this</em> friend still lives in <strong>The Village</strong>, so it's quite apt in a way) (duck pond and all) but being my good self I couldn't just stitch what was there could I? </p><p align="justify"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">no!</span></strong></p><p align="justify">so, the horse has a mane and a tail, all loose trimmed threads sticking out from the canvas; one of the picket fences has some extra white washed wood in it; the lambs are fluffier than they were originally intended to be; one of the trees has a multitude of little red French knot apples on it and one on the ground underneath (boys, a <em>French knot</em> is a stitch where you wrap the yarn around the needle to make a small 3-D bump on your canvas); one of the houses has pink climbing roses up the front (yes, also 3-D), and the corn in the cows' field is also raised; there are 3-D crops in the big field behind the red barn (can't remember the name of the stitch that I used); I struggled for ages to work out how to make the laundry on the washing line stand out, or up, blowing in the wind, but couldn't</p><p align="justify">and now I have the same problem that I have with <a href="http://woundupandreadytoplay.blogspot.com/2009/04/lifes.html"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">these</span></strong></a>, I need to have the finished item made into a cushion. . .</p><p align="justify">. . .as dull and middle-aged as it sounds, I think I'm going to have to get my sewing machine mended</p><p align="justify"><strong>what has my life come to?</strong></p><p align="justify"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">(actually - don't answer that!)</span></strong></em></p><p align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">(please)</span></em> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-27860846541506716402009-06-08T11:51:00.003+01:002009-06-08T12:53:11.263+01:00oh darn<div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">or, rather, stitch. . .</span><br /></div><div></div><br /><div>so - having done a little picture research to find the image for the above, I now find this:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344923253554176802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNOtTPjtSDp7U6OG6GJRjCGkufN3QpCagS9YpbHyxlrhG93UyJ9_AwaESDHzC3cJ78cMnLN_nHH7F1YVNkW7uiplM5yVMvJcxUPQYQKtzu1z_mi7bE0v_-3XSiIClIRpgNpmC7ib86AA/s400/shaker+village+winter.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><p>and <a href="http://www.sewexciting.com/?page=shop/view"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">these</span></strong></a>. . .</p><p><strong>help!</strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-3768054273114074532009-06-07T14:46:00.003+01:002009-06-07T14:48:09.859+01:00by popular request<div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">(and against my better judgement)</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344581893837282050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_zCiQz8Ghyphenhyphen1N5mHJWjPW0u30TLA3u5w9F0RZVl5B20jqJ0lIOXkbAe02L0novqO-TJJaYJteXbkY81ksNcleOsJGNy7bNMYXNpvZfCsGIvsHj4qY0K553C9FkgmMPchJ9u8h0MDTn8U/s400/cartoon+spitoon.gif" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-29858418529851037212009-06-06T12:49:00.020+01:002009-06-06T13:34:55.872+01:00so, June, now where were we?<div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">ah, yes!</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344186385519000594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_WitDHIUtEw97gZ6KeoPnMEFSsLOoXZYxsxauTuDV8yPqgnh31NO9kv6j7tEttChKafP_GmUY9UjzQDEqVFJRlIrEYVnT9ByPSs6tD3UdoLneeIxGE3JuP-Aysto6spFMx8HUtnlO2pQ/s400/racoon2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>. . .rac<strong>oon<br /><br /></strong></em>and just in case you were wondering:</p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvSVhLdUR2bjYaLknge2gbPKYvGjTHrCakfBxg-eUoGHZvXtDeulJBhMneT1HgGI8uVJEsmlfjCyfdvy-39iCGlTPofJvPLKkxPuAWdlVpwLWCyNqmDGU8mBltCgHKuhryKj065qNoLY/s1600-h/racoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185892355224418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 382px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvSVhLdUR2bjYaLknge2gbPKYvGjTHrCakfBxg-eUoGHZvXtDeulJBhMneT1HgGI8uVJEsmlfjCyfdvy-39iCGlTPofJvPLKkxPuAWdlVpwLWCyNqmDGU8mBltCgHKuhryKj065qNoLY/s400/racoon.jpg" border="0" /></a> (I hope that helps!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioReWGqz50ZRFQscQybpK8VgkGVoTcyd8rkdriIyyNdgN4zPu2ZCBxHfD-nsjpFVZubhCxGDfby8vNd_GMIcZPlTjgCJpo3VdSRpNPCg-A3lSbf4T9AQ9ndeFV_kna2-HPmZKh9n-dYpE/s1600-h/Promethea+Cocoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185686484351138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioReWGqz50ZRFQscQybpK8VgkGVoTcyd8rkdriIyyNdgN4zPu2ZCBxHfD-nsjpFVZubhCxGDfby8vNd_GMIcZPlTjgCJpo3VdSRpNPCg-A3lSbf4T9AQ9ndeFV_kna2-HPmZKh9n-dYpE/s400/Promethea+Cocoon.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>. . .coc<strong>oon</strong></em> (a moth's)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185540954385106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuciTif7AHL56_1yRr3laiaMS70gmu4J6Fd3p0MEjGAlt3_za3MorTOfIEJvqWXVpe-HT02i0Po8leAKLamIv0ouNHfj3jMQMm68nKnAQFR9Z_nEar6IrKJKhs5OJ0EMaDXtmRsDUB7PE/s400/cocoon+silkworm.jpg" border="0" />. . .<em>coc<strong>oon</strong></em> (silkworms')<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZLfJN2_6zpUOozdza2387oojxIgLe45C1ox_7iBZDTEVYehNPulEwP4aHarJtXoS1sIkZ_bJqlzs15Htvi0KxRalkTxK5rPG4WVT0sUtoXVpfmH4b6BSg91Lf7kBhncuZcxC9ngbzcE/s1600-h/cocoon+silkworms.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185599821898194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZLfJN2_6zpUOozdza2387oojxIgLe45C1ox_7iBZDTEVYehNPulEwP4aHarJtXoS1sIkZ_bJqlzs15Htvi0KxRalkTxK5rPG4WVT0sUtoXVpfmH4b6BSg91Lf7kBhncuZcxC9ngbzcE/s400/cocoon+silkworms.jpg" border="0" /></a> (why not do something arty with them?!)<br />and while we're on the subject of cocoons. . .<br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMXKqEGbnPPVVfKxD1DIKhGgfvzI5eJDPJiwKrn55H89QP08Gje1DYHOujYfxvswI0_A7AlM5qI7M14eRoEZOarCWHmMAArM4-_Ijqazd7GrOvbyozuEpPHS8bU3uaKGP9n6oPT9VdsA/s1600-h/cocoon+film.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185481867169618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMXKqEGbnPPVVfKxD1DIKhGgfvzI5eJDPJiwKrn55H89QP08Gje1DYHOujYfxvswI0_A7AlM5qI7M14eRoEZOarCWHmMAArM4-_Ijqazd7GrOvbyozuEpPHS8bU3uaKGP9n6oPT9VdsA/s400/cocoon+film.jpg" border="0" /></a> remember this one?<br /><br />now - more things that rhyme with June -<br />your choice of:<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWz81N9CP2PjEAVQTw6lb-Osk3MMmXEIYRit8IIz63YjPwXvT2nzg_ryvP74yb10FU_sMURZv-pmh7bK0HFi5Ltgp1OhfZZXvwwKns9KSozS47fFs7gDRqkzvlPh6nrxEQLYDnTgPu2bU/s1600-h/Pontoon+Bridge.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185410123222546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWz81N9CP2PjEAVQTw6lb-Osk3MMmXEIYRit8IIz63YjPwXvT2nzg_ryvP74yb10FU_sMURZv-pmh7bK0HFi5Ltgp1OhfZZXvwwKns9KSozS47fFs7gDRqkzvlPh6nrxEQLYDnTgPu2bU/s400/Pontoon+Bridge.jpg" border="0" /></a> . . .<em>pont<strong>oon</strong></em><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjktii7C2_sOmAn8NgHnn7_nLHBr2Zs3iFe7c2JCft8tD5v2AmbXU1vFQEWL0-LxPxKFQjZP7yu1dWb0OoAZ7roNXrgrbRqu7CkP4feGTBngeMfPhiAkw7FJLcsQW74F6GWp0fAqR0n_k/s1600-h/harpoon.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185331951589378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjktii7C2_sOmAn8NgHnn7_nLHBr2Zs3iFe7c2JCft8tD5v2AmbXU1vFQEWL0-LxPxKFQjZP7yu1dWb0OoAZ7roNXrgrbRqu7CkP4feGTBngeMfPhiAkw7FJLcsQW74F6GWp0fAqR0n_k/s400/harpoon.gif" border="0" /></a><em>. . .harp<strong>oon</strong><br /></em><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPW7BzSzehOf8lczh4wHoG8_7DViisANmxcCRLzfJLDTN04ObmzEVa047IDZElfXcRWs2FCHJ0rp4MlLuKNEVTKQd5_y28MeVEn4atHGQreU0W_nTB42GClVIbDBAhiIJlAtZkbMFeK48/s1600-h/Lagoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185271056486562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPW7BzSzehOf8lczh4wHoG8_7DViisANmxcCRLzfJLDTN04ObmzEVa047IDZElfXcRWs2FCHJ0rp4MlLuKNEVTKQd5_y28MeVEn4atHGQreU0W_nTB42GClVIbDBAhiIJlAtZkbMFeK48/s400/Lagoon.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>. . .lag<strong>oon</strong><br /></em>(with little boats!)<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl6e_UU15iaywhvuZIkuSG-VBBHjoRKtpHrRgaDbaiK-_bbmPPlh3tgQik97jK_9W50S9JcfJclwK1dqbq8MlEYze6If5qOBxR0jm8-YxmkdmZLkvWhkeQ_BTWAEvvYMbKxmNmTHxSws/s1600-h/Saloon-bar-signs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185212203462978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl6e_UU15iaywhvuZIkuSG-VBBHjoRKtpHrRgaDbaiK-_bbmPPlh3tgQik97jK_9W50S9JcfJclwK1dqbq8MlEYze6If5qOBxR0jm8-YxmkdmZLkvWhkeQ_BTWAEvvYMbKxmNmTHxSws/s400/Saloon-bar-signs.jpg" border="0" /></a><em>. . .sal<strong>oon</strong></em><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotEu162jROGGW5nPb9YMwsKMKiQZUUZU07PutniMQuAwy0uWGedaahMTsfG5TLDtxn4oauNsUSFvWM081r6nVBQ0aMK7NFpUA7dpd7ewc5qP2oswd948gEffwB-j33Yll5ECxMxn2A4Q/s1600-h/swoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185150540616002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjotEu162jROGGW5nPb9YMwsKMKiQZUUZU07PutniMQuAwy0uWGedaahMTsfG5TLDtxn4oauNsUSFvWM081r6nVBQ0aMK7NFpUA7dpd7ewc5qP2oswd948gEffwB-j33Yll5ECxMxn2A4Q/s400/swoon.jpg" border="0" /></a> . . .<em>Sw<strong>oon</strong></em><br />(a street artist in NYC)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeQM1J1uwCmsJ-agiV6hLjaUt5fffj5pujIR2acR7pRVbz0j1c40e9fwveV93KQPsdq6zARmhQGqBy8kMZJqLcI8IJne-XxbYoCHz9-hYse43W-0FWyolJoPIIgqJU_1LodYTRYDW3jc/s1600-h/tomb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185076651027986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeQM1J1uwCmsJ-agiV6hLjaUt5fffj5pujIR2acR7pRVbz0j1c40e9fwveV93KQPsdq6zARmhQGqBy8kMZJqLcI8IJne-XxbYoCHz9-hYse43W-0FWyolJoPIIgqJU_1LodYTRYDW3jc/s400/tomb.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> . . .tomb</em><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185952895905778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcJctFPwxH0H3rt1_BC0gWu421Gg0x4ZiOZ1adupVm2-Mjfw2-4IPrmgXzYEGp76jdXkSO1z-wxfw18azWFzevFzim17Bqny6iShWO3_eI4YTSZ9cbbBTnnUfBlo68RncKzFMPfCg5Nw/s400/macaroon.jpg" border="0" /> . . .more <em>macar<strong>oon</strong>s<br /></em>(I had to - they are <strong>so </strong>yummy)<br /><br /><div></div><strong>now, let's sit back</strong><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185760861016386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUldIBaG4tqb9dQ4PxtoRPkzjOQ1KHzKe3aJ6OefXUqZaJvVMTkwS7dSjkzeLAjvwKya-lF_C-vYNhGrPCNZzOFaqqb5AFnN7UU3U_JhqVgQF_rDq1xVj0S2KEvcxSeK2KOxaDnCGyvQw/s400/Cocoon_Chair.jpg" border="0" /> in our <em>cocoon</em> chairs<br />and admire the view:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344185829070827922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0HqE6j-jwd0Yad_i6xUORmKpnO1uhJFxIYRt0Wl76yZ-TtQ2HlL5Zt5kOqDsTggJlXs4RJZuDP3yktzdk8TYTi9N7eTt-XhUbbStELacsNPpWegFoV8kWm9rQgLvXV-Pu0JSRlJfdUks/s400/cocoon+nebula.jpg" border="0" /> <em>. . .the coc<strong>oon</strong> nebula</em><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ff0000;">. . .</span><a href="http://woundupandreadytoplay.blogspot.com/search/label/tune%20for%20the%20day%20back%20with%20links%20-%20hurrah"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">and listen to some <em>tunes</em>. . .</span></strong></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-50867006793870425822009-06-05T15:22:00.001+01:002009-06-05T15:24:10.973+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZeHcHF3B8EUMKvwxbc9WlkzC7LzrhtmgkclEbAgSfFTUUpUVpfk5kivk-3JKFbASydM2kVQNCXu4sbuKx_oWCyLtV861tBrPIJCin-JjVyeCAydbOI3Kwet8kYu99Jibf0zu46EGdfo/s1600-h/coffee.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343848968822452882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZeHcHF3B8EUMKvwxbc9WlkzC7LzrhtmgkclEbAgSfFTUUpUVpfk5kivk-3JKFbASydM2kVQNCXu4sbuKx_oWCyLtV861tBrPIJCin-JjVyeCAydbOI3Kwet8kYu99Jibf0zu46EGdfo/s400/coffee.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#990000;"><em>(if only I'd had some earlier!)</em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-22695371081872713912009-06-01T15:47:00.017+01:002009-06-01T20:29:34.214+01:00pinch punch - doesn't time fly?<div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">first of the month - how can it be June already?<br /></span><br /><strong>so soon. . . </strong></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342374315586231458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08T1AwxILa0fLPm9ful3ncJNwMaHrwUjjnTUd9G8JIl-_LR0aUtVwcHq25KDoHT32gkXPqoyLv0lYQc4VSRo9L6RCOj7Ybn9hDvIDFwHkKezRp8L261Zc2ZbKHRqV_mqVY02MDGK4qBM/s400/baboon.gif" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .bab<strong>oon</p></strong></em><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342371602450285090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 273px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfsWrQMyxG6VhZdSoeUBchgoQ6FfgXAs-BNjjtQikeNMytrToD1ioa4mbbZA9h-Ri_I_5mHNvRDKJadzwo_5Gx3N9x4jOjby_cNJ_ddEHKNeyfha35scZDujUu6ksNOBR87yDEozv1Qg/s400/hot-air-balloon.jpg" border="0" /></div><p align="center"><em>. . .hot air ball<strong>oon</strong></em></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342374417839766690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 351px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYb5wVrHOFXwNFMQ1-JEoTuNygd4XU4Be6v1NKdmHW5tqdRItz-5QGr2PoeTLSAe6bsQ1Nn_3-niCGFMiVVif6oysGY4XFmy-_j0rJPPR87d9MYFA06FWwpMkdT6-fJ_4m2mP19crAWgY/s400/invader-zim.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .cart<strong>oon<br /></p></strong></em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342440100820539282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZpWbgiTNq5VWWInFoC-Ax8IAZlatujSDe8RLzQYWXsToAiHywQhPI-Ila5NQ2lHCXNGSxZxCtAhbQqBkac7Xo-Q4JKEuHxHozDcg6-LG5Odv8hzs9R7Xi4q9t1XBwYOMn5Remi9P3hM/s400/frank-sinatra.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .a vintage cr<strong>oon</strong>er</em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342439346032359746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cCszUrmOarH-UVQ9Fly9-05yFQU3snfteM6aLQXjjeSxPJfInSBKXr5e3cxNYvtv8FaIwoHtCJHY61ERwlQ2sbH3HRPj9PYkUeiH4YbpzEVXD0oF900PUkLcA6lyPEI4gKtrZCI6wVk/s400/sand+dune2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em>. . .sand <strong>dune<br /></strong></em><br /></p><br /><p align="center"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342373176801431266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 349px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDz0r63IUEpi9eKSNRbQrUH6c9iFpohLoqhwAg2-4GpY8PMGdzLfTNnt6KUWCRfgqcGE8Wae3nli2hbLfy-Cz5N2HpxIbA2iF4_a6L_VemBzBNBMB8dVyOMmekhqv1Mif4075td5EoEgE/s400/Goons.jpg" border="0" />. . .hired g<strong>oon</strong>s</em></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342439276467608146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQctusmQbHY6S8h_PXBrpcLrutIv-4PwHJFCts7u6ngj9Y4vXDpyzSrQOXmrektNdtJSayQbgCVXsSVA31bL-olGIZbK09nCPYERWjBxcDTHI1PqVUPhCB-CCk4a3f1vXOk-o9dy2J68/s400/hewn.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> . . .<em>hand <strong>hewn</strong> </em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342374490130938194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDTxK3A9iiEBnTajBeQshCF4Uh7kb42T4n7vm9zV1Qke76JweIBypnyVmVjomgiD4xQ5HXdGV8GoW76SVefYlbcHa6O09-B8aMuodsls5Mk3nV6PjdV0L0gT9qPo4WoGWa-LYeSFAAyg/s400/loon.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .on a lake, a l<strong>oon<br /></strong></em> </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342442541759847218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT54iwUKedFiWqOCxl4-PfixhfaEXv6f9cpj6X5QJEWlxFe0dwPWuaieqhYlZ9R1hU98U_vtb2hVS1NdRJkF2lF4ETn21rmL9f2hqKOMTHe2pCAfhOLa2zAJ2T9OzlsM-g-WPWEqEnWyY/s400/macaroon.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>. . .maca<strong>roon</strong></em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342371541292116738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpz74tH5FaujLbpaKDF-QZ2nekdQrg7yVM6AGD-ZUkVsG3ufHMtWxCom6uFGW-cMYlU2uUMZTgmbmY24NKSgg02tUOzfOC1Csbik-cttEcqRq7izYE6ef7EGUkHcRCo_ypf58hvekQnys/s400/moon3.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .full m<strong>oon</strong></em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342439203049408690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3zdFxbb78CFY_16bygdHfkB4i5L7k8zH12qCaMcJZ-XbJyi7PzTkGXYuUwByEHCr_RwN-Xf5g7Q5yujqJX0ZB8eNnOse3-LycUPkiRzoLTwKYm9vPuueQPBN4rTLFEYQumrQfzjSvG8/s400/noon.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em><strong>. . .noon</strong></em><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342372066421133842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaC-NqvdU1jiYFcFigp-YOgKZytT4q8rEUUFk5hoLJSf6PIcBCIDp5wiNZTweTtR2ik8k9PcyieyItGF-w9M9VDsA9iqs6gZ9_9ZVKPbRXu-8oMvtg2AX_TaEDZMKMH8Xv9ipS3-7_xz0/s400/runes.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> . . .<em>r<strong>une</strong>s</em></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342373257199617698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04VTecsZnHFV3fyRMuJf4wpE1jA-kmTiSHSr3R6ahm4VzXb-2MjsZDqWB2PKQ2nXUbhuUykCWgouLNA59cg7k8YnT78YGs4rCUfAvPCzyTJwp_-6y4BEhTIAn7Sa0JfxI_t0uUpdMgN8/s400/silver+spoon2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em>. . .silver sp<strong>oon</strong><br /></em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342373097841027506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LHG8-WZL_xtHCdAFkPrz3ec4qPAEvS9A1-R6d_uuZ02sudQSAG0fzfhSkW-vEqJO48Xk3SWUF4tA89o0EcThnuIDA7XhV3P_GXGYfk7j5O8jIePr_9gAO_NyCo8vPBovZVzUJIgg1Ig/s400/typhoon.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <em>. . .typh<strong>oon</strong></em></p><em><strong><p align="left"></strong></em><strong>hm<em>mmmmmmmmmm</em>. . .</strong> what else rhymes with June then?</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-17239082750269091242009-05-31T18:03:00.000+01:002009-05-31T18:02:43.279+01:00polo - the mint with the hole<div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">or a game played on a horse</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342029561001355010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfb40rkYwlNSP9yAODtPKuUpGRDwWiWEaUD7K7jxsdNljFoZOtFkbb6EZTLw0W2ZB4rdEiEN24vzYeoKgMou5tD_BItSLM6cKIpXx5rFFguLTs-zi4cN8VNB4IH4fgAe8Ud6AD0MeSvxk/s400/polo+mint.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong>up arrow:</strong> <em>the mint<br /></em><br /><strong>down arrow:</strong> <em>the game<br /></em><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342029498785109682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 328px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejVI62IJLHCIxKh5RQ21hBYEqFrz3ekgsnByDYhOAUYDQGs9esODebhAD8DKTAss0vZkmi8C7az5EZ_XLgVguBxWSKGCgQwc9XgDVFtECYNo03agBMIuEPXhBmlN-cMeSBZb_t1pRe5M/s400/polo+horses.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"><strong>so - I had an unexpected day out today!</strong> for some reason, I was invited to watch people on horses, charging about after a small white round thing, which the people on the horses kept whacking with sticks that reminded me of mallets and playing croquet. . . </p><p align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342029962160010130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7NImSGETalx0Ywzb7BWtGBnkhImPvFYdRM8dogqDj3X6gns8A_cptXSI5_IPZayIy9d6sQSMDx6LGQ33_UMsmAU4FzseUexnrPYybs34slP8gsdqTdYsQBRcktApz1yu8b3RSH2wE-Fk/s400/croquet.bmp" border="0" /></p><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">(I'm thinking of giving up being blonde,<br />by the way)</span></em> </div><br /><div align="justify">no, really, I'm not posh - both polo and croquet are really out of my previous social boundaries (my current social status rendering me somewhat invisible to almost everything) (apart from doing this - which is all I need really!)<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></div><div align="justify">anyhow, the odd thing was that before I received the invite a tune had been going round and round in my head - first time for ages - and I was going to share it with you yesterday, but became sidetracked by household chores. . . </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-14786876554607819242009-05-31T17:48:00.010+01:002009-05-31T18:03:34.920+01:00<div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">On the first part of the journey<br />I was looking at all the life<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342032958415867138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpRshAGUUpcM2myje382YdcUi1EhOUH2IV6FZyL8Rwdff4V6ieE5FbCELkmEm4M2_TYjhpvLrCKVUK0Ydp09XRE5CSPOnUUBvyuiurHhNW78sDt8f5IylUm9aMq4Art745YfdBF7ypdo/s400/Desert+Wildflower.jpg" border="0" /> There were plants and birds and rocks and things<br />There was sand and hills and rings<br />The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz<br />And the sky with no clouds<br />The heat was hot and the ground was dry<br />But the air was full of sound<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342032890420050802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAVLKsp5aBnKcO6IhsbVK6dPFXXoPxNN3voehYSo9pU4X-qY0bv2JpinWHhXE9INdaPN5mHNr0yaINeyTEt2_LmJfMtocDPBk80vKEkMgSrHz88-up2HSzJ6Ootet4uT14RwaD5CUKCg/s400/desert+clouds.jpg" border="0" /> I've been through the desert on a horse with no name<br />It felt good to be out of the rain<br />In the desert you can remember your name<br />'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">pain</span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />La, la, la ...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342032788873235218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWm62ru_rz0uhSO9GLLhSGGVELNMWgDIBAhARmDvlucg5aY7Hhv3G_VmZNT6wsS2lYCMpiTEDWJlKE-7mQF_muDpNZ4kPRmRVvz33Oudo9sMFkVdZZKAn8ZqScezdUiqXCOrJ5POXO3UQ/s400/desert_flower.jpg" border="0" /> After two days in the desert sun<br />My skin began to turn red<br />After three days in the desert fun<br />I was looking at a river </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">bed</span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />And the story it told of a river that flowed<br />Made me sad to think it was dead<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342033153530124146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JPhSlLmcdbfTlkDN0oV50LGLk32q1dMoHfRKCnQTbEm0GDsW0gzIlgLvCdgGcPduMATmQ6nKMX0poivpZJuZ5c4WBz-SG0Xo9dhIUc3PiV7Jm6RcB1OIYbG9auMVSNsJfP4kM7AMMfI/s400/desert+Riverbed2.jpg" border="0" />You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name<br />It felt good to be out of the rain<br />In the desert you can remember your name<br />'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">pain</span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />La, la, la ...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342033858502873778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0v2rluOrpTbo6WkITEk79674TGCy_i-1TtIKXdkxisAGrLXWQA3dhq-p4FBY55A3j4zvnHZJVjp7z_-oJxDc4d0aBxb53eJRBfuX3nGeisq60pDqIOhtSQsA2cD8w-y2fwsNTRGsmGI/s400/salt+lake2.jpg" border="0" /> After nine days I let the horse run free<br />'Cause the desert had turned to sea<br />There were plants and birds and rocks and things<br />There was sand and hills and rings<br />The ocean is a desert with its life underground<br />And a perfect disguise above<br />Under the cities lies a heart made of ground<br />But the humans will give no </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">love<br /></span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342033063406609506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRmAdJ6cVzB0Cx1ZLhlHmaKuqCHRqQwgiO8wBhM4cXIKZyHbC37gGCDat4OxUZPEgIqhugRpBcSPoT_jt2bCDzfTrMnYUFYPf3JS0cMH5XUv4zQDzJG-Yu0QrqtToBFIuuoUHQrKntkY/s400/desert+riverbed.bmp" border="0" /> You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name<br />It felt good to be out of the rain<br />In the desert you can remember your name<br />'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain<br />La, la, la ...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342032693086967426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCzVu5ybsv88c6S8GL4IXjSIBGeStRZEg7miPWYCEQ6PvXu5UTRUKBin953UrpzKavqnPsrLkNU2LrNYw6hjpIuEXKE_wiqJ9J6U-fz6apDs-uL5Vg5ap971iLoXZDroL_LzT0AhQzAo/s400/horse+in+desert.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong>AMERICA </strong></span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-77130810373294599642009-05-29T11:45:00.009+01:002009-05-29T11:56:23.646+01:00a little late to the table, but<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">an offering for Friday nonetheless<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">take one juicer:<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341196622136000098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjib4AQ07WqJ28-tQ6Koyh97z0kC3mfREf9Isou9d0ssA-RVFW-Qj-Fvo9XJDsujE-_EPVqjLErInUckZixosgqFymw_03uyCCql0KpCnGl76i9gC-0YqZ1Va9C57JDgti4MAW_D75C-fU/s400/magimix+juicer.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></div><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">and a blender:<br /><br /></span></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341195704837088834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xqHvSOX9KCsrWMk8c9gpHxoGgGwnKFi1a_CMQ-crxNrzKTDmQ8AS4HqrlCsiYiG55AvkALpUJZ6X-S8fS3632mKhyCpaEOTu-laIm82_tL2_dVD6cdURThs5IYciHw6c3Hwkr4El_1A/s400/magimix.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">and lots of gorgeous<br />delicious exotic fruit:</span></strong><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341195765465032386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 341px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxaUg9YpxbOZWH6z9fsmsPwEXP0FZBA8S5m8GH7zQVgSb6EylG39-zo5OYjPLSXv24cF4f2lqjxMUWZDhkCTGCi6Rnf5Qk5D4E9UyuNyW9c2fHaghB-HqkPBmVOyMjdZbRavnRd-5LhYM/s400/fruit2.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">and we have fruit smoothies all round!</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341196798127693026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 365px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_bM-lzZ5_EAGr8zjtBAce30LiNb4oT_5r5TftV3DalBFAAWeLa7EqjAGskZyEzVTtJ7MUbvJcDgXL1ABZn472fVJ8SO-gN_DZbjb95qwLOhERATETgExKbpOC_C-k6r8XQT85Tn-efg/s400/Fruit+Smoothies.jpg" border="0" /><br />(and of course, there is coffee too!)<br /><br /></span></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341196732592295842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Xv77tC6L-2vYdxSMejARMKIkwNjUvWdvXoLB5sTp8Wi-Iqlco2wsDd8346uYKRCqbpYQBPlr8i6rfM8L7mwgVcHHSmfUvoT1FwXLP1lRc-NmNsDhoOyF-1o6PbUv5PlQZDA-hdR_-XI/s400/freshly+brewed+coffee.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">(-:</span></strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-43597511476926139722009-05-28T00:52:00.003+01:002009-05-28T00:56:42.545+01:00the thing about life is<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">that's it's a constant work in progress</span><br /><br /><strong>isn't it?</strong><br /><br /><div align="justify">so sometimes it is important to remember to give people the benefit of the doubt, not be too quick to judge, not be too slow to offer support<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">(of course, this applies to <strong>oneself</strong> as well as to <strong>"people"</strong>)</span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-4310893082248264712009-05-27T16:37:00.008+01:002009-05-27T16:54:05.182+01:00I,LTV goes up to town<div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">I visited Liberty<br /></div></span><div align="justify"><br />which is one of my favourite shops (and has been for a long time)<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340530146411808050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAdR6cyws06pATIW6lJJ6u6wdvDgj80UkRpJYiiYYs3NwnF220TX4WAUG3UCHKwNr_ywxEV-j9dYLLOh00aiciQFRX1Q7oFeaGEqU3ne4r_VlErO7Se7GPIw2r2q5jFRIYfqIrJd8CLl4/s400/liberty+outside.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify">part of it is a Tudor building (mock possibly. but I don't know the history) and there is a wonderful gallery:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Pvomqz4GIpl7Jw65nPYFVzUA6sLPdJQiLOKe72NfzLbIUYuDfA6vnnNp9FCV2bFRbwTCDLJgUO8X95Eq5DjXNjW1JVnPOiznKCGsczTQQTbLsOK5A5ITQ0Nf-9HVdqX5Q9C1IqyhrYI/s1600-h/Liberty+inside.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340530238220328082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Pvomqz4GIpl7Jw65nPYFVzUA6sLPdJQiLOKe72NfzLbIUYuDfA6vnnNp9FCV2bFRbwTCDLJgUO8X95Eq5DjXNjW1JVnPOiznKCGsczTQQTbLsOK5A5ITQ0Nf-9HVdqX5Q9C1IqyhrYI/s400/Liberty+inside.jpg" border="0" /></a>I went to the haberdashery section (such is my love of buttons and ricrac and velvet trims and other bits and pieces that I think I must have been a peddlar of such items in a previous life)<br /><br />I didn't go for the tana lawn, but I always love looking at the designs. .<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340530302166014194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 142px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTl14P0zP-PymfM4wQlXFnApmBTGmfX477pNo0wVqXCGRgivOEWh4Tzwx8-Gx1n5Z5gUIqlDmtB6AtqTf5u2nK5xEa3kfY9z-Ul3uick-G93h1bJyzcR7nO3wVpDqhD2NOp6l4yqwtkpE/s400/liberty+tana+lawn.jpg" border="0" /> and looking. . .</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340530494846945858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXnHLlfMrEPn1L2lx-GUpKlpHc9WTK4AMi-CvgHxbTxQxVqER3KMFACoNgOecGyNXewLIgWxjrkuxcSkVkAWvOAyYG3yfTqxeqaztmevnjFts-4eSCrRoSXsOeeWmoBAW73PT8J_sTnM/s400/liberty+fabric.bmp" border="0" />perhaps I should take a photo of my purchases and share the delights with you? (it was a kind of gift to myself, the trip; the purchases were an added extra!)</p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I hope you were able<br />to do something today<br />that brought a smile<br />to your face</span></strong></p><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">(-:</span></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-8159009100040473802009-05-25T22:37:00.005+01:002009-05-25T23:11:35.753+01:00a view<div align="justify"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">so, I go to see a movie again</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />I can't recommend it, so I'm <strong>not</strong> going to tell you what it was<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em>a little later, once home, I sat in the swing seat in the courtyard. . .<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>. . .there had been some early summer rain during the evening - you know, the sort that smells of thunder and drops out of the sky in big dollops, a little like melted icecream - and the seat was wet, but I didn't care<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>as I sat in the damp dark little courtyard - lit only by the twinkles of the fairy lights that I have twisted around the narrow trunks of the olive trees that the previous owners left behind, and in and out of the window box of herbs I have on a sill - I reflected on how fortunate I am, how much I have to be thankful for. . .</em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />. . .my children, all healthy; their love; a roof over our head and food on our plates; friends - theirs and mine (mostly you lovely lot)<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span> </em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">the going to see a movie provoked a conversation about a book and I discussed with <strong>The Teen</strong> how sometimes one has to go against one's initial thoughts, feelings and ideas about a situation or experience in order to be able to have a view<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">whether that view ends up being positive or negative<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">how can you say you do or do not like something, unless you have experienced it?<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">obviously this statement precludes a wide variety of aspects of life, so perhaps I am only referring to the arts - yes, I think I'm only referring to the arts<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">and, perhaps, love<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">choosing a situation, experiencing a situation, when one might love or be loved, or not, say<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">not knowing the outcome of a situation or experience until one has made the decision, going with or against one's initial thoughts, feelings and ideas<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><strong>I'm rambling<br /></strong><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I once read a book I didn't want to read, in order to have a view<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">but most of life is not that simple<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I wish, for you, <em>dear reader</em>,<br />friends and relatives,<br />love,<br />a roof and food<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />not necessarily in that order</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />XXX</span></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-24113226177845279082009-05-23T13:25:00.006+01:002009-05-25T10:08:33.328+01:00painting<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">is very theraputic</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338996864914022706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVtY4wHkS1xSay5prAN7hPrMD64F5lyvTXYsUpdf0WXlr9Dsiq6HsJRYo2VSnFtlC7fHl_j4KsZA8wENZaQoEK4JDlH1vY2OcLDaxRmmjUBUyDetoQnq6qiyLPdHp0RtdVubh0zAyYBU/s400/liquitex.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="justify">a while back<strong> The Teen</strong> and I went to a demonstration of how to use acrylic paint, at an art supply shop that we occasionally frequent for supplies</div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><em>it was fascinating</em></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify">mainly because I've never been taught how to paint, or how to use different types of paint; the product was being sold at a promotional price (40% off!) so we invested in some of the different types of paints we'd seen demonstrated<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">yesterday evening, when the children went off to their father's for the weekend, I started messing about with the paint<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><strong>it was wonderful</strong><br /></em><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">of course, I actually still have whole walls to redecorate, so quite how I could justify a <em>12<strong>"</strong>x8<strong>"</strong></em> canvas I don't know - but sometimes one has to opt for fun over sensible<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I hope you have a good day today</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">and manage to have a little fun</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">somehow</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />XXX</span></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5099497818457531399.post-54848042101593492612009-05-21T21:57:00.006+01:002009-05-21T22:04:59.556+01:00let them eat. . .<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">. . .jaffa cake!</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338384632848428690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4DsoWvh-sJ2rH-zb_1IicnwZ9zna_EN-73tgiVb3XLlz9hHoupmFLfD7fX4Omii4PfAXWhdFwm8o8S4KIY05mkgRhvGbS8VbgMtgQMogSaf6RAa6JyMw5OnhU0Kq3qICofXMkbLJNuZ0/s400/jaffa+cakes.bmp" border="0" /><br /><div align="justify">for those <em>not in the know</em>, the <strong>only</strong> way to do this properly is to nibble around the edges, freeing the smashing orangey bit in the middle - it will peel gently away from the biscuity/cakey bit on the bottom so that you can enjoy its orangy juicy goodness. . .<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></div><div align="justify">(and, of course, the delicious dark chocolatey layer on the top)<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></div><div align="justify"><strong>and then you can ditch the rest</strong><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><em>(cake or biscuit - <strong>who cares?</strong> the only good thing about a jaffa cake is the <strong>smashing orangey bit!</strong>) </em><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338384689636908018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguysvkqJr018Neh_acjvqeL0iwmxA751F_pWNz_o6nvRTvpEgl-5fx470qp-IMjwNnK4GqpAnxDT3VxtRlD0j63HbuEWyk4QJtWE-AvmJHprQI6XJYwQh6Yc7-y70zyuBxajfGlmJPTBc/s400/jaffa+cake.jpg" border="0" />and then help yourself to a cup of lovely hot coffee! (or tea, if you're Dave)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><b>Frasier:</b> So are you suggesting that I go along and pretend I'm enjoying myself in something that gives me no pleasure at all just to hear the words <i>"I love you"</i>?
<b>Daphne:</b> Why not? Women have been doing it for centuries.</div>I, Like The Viewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00423569600315825506noreply@blogger.com11