Donimo
When the summer evenings are warmest we take deckchairs out onto the sidewalk and drink and watch the lobelias wilt from the hanging baskets. Ah, the sun.
This entry was posted on Thursday, July 28th, 2005 at 3:58 AM and filed under Old stuff. Trackbacks are closed.
If you watered the lobelias you could watch them war against the sun. They’d lose, ultimately, but it would be a noble failure.
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Posted on 28-Jul-05 at 12:00 pm | PermalinkWe watered the lobelias once: their owners objected.
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Posted on 28-Jul-05 at 12:04 pm | PermalinkIf you watered the owners, would their lobelias object?
(Objecting objects of the objected?).
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Posted on 28-Jul-05 at 12:05 pm | PermalinkPlease send sun over to Douglas.
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Posted on 28-Jul-05 at 8:00 pm | PermalinkBW: I’d like to see the lobelias try to object. Flopping their droopy heads hither and thither.
lauren: ha ha! My fond regards will have to suffice, I fear.
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Posted on 28-Jul-05 at 11:01 pm | Permalinkand some people wash their eyeballs with liquor as Paul?!
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Posted on 29-Jul-05 at 12:00 pm | Permalinksounds as quaint as cider with rosie by laurie lee.the sun realy did bear down on you in them days,yea i remember it well.world war one.but the damp t.b ridden winter would quickly kill off any memorie of that hot hot sun and scorched flowers.
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Posted on 29-Jul-05 at 8:05 pm | Permalinktopo: nothing like an eyeful of vodka on a balmy summer’s day!
ally: an evocative comment, and no mistake.
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Posted on 29-Jul-05 at 10:03 pm | Permalink