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  • #715

    Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

    Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

    As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

    Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

    “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

    Sheesh, sighed Becky.

    As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

    There was an Old Crone with a beard,
    Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
    Two Owls and a Lynx,
    And a Rabbit in Pink,
    Have all built their nests in my beard!’

    Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

    There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
    Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
    When he’d eaten eighteen,
    He turned perfectly green,
    Upon which he relinquished those habits.

    The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

    Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
    The one I was in went back and forwards.
    I thought, “This is unusual.”
    The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

    #1898
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
      tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
      tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
      tjmarshall57: veils
      tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
      tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
      tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
      tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
      tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
      tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
      tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
      tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
      tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
      tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
      tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

      Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

      tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
      tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
      tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
      tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
      tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
      tjmarshall57:
      tjmarshall57: another part for you!
      tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
      tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
      tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
      tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
      tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
      tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
      tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
      tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
      tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
      tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
      tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
      tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
      tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
      franci_free: oh hrllo
      franci_free: goodness
      franci_free: will need to read back
      tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
      franci_free: well what a complicated theme
      tjmarshall57: haahah well
      franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
      tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
      franci_free: hahahah
      franci_free: great!
      tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
      franci_free:
      tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
      tjmarshall57: the red fruit
      tjmarshall57: the time of year
      tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
      franci_free: the splotches?
      tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
      tjmarshall57: afterwards

      #2115

      In reply to: Snooteries

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        I daresay the Cloud is agreening with the Snootie Cutie:

        Aspects (of the) front (leave you) wondering mostly. (The Snoot) smiled (and) next, (had His) face soft. Remember… (these hints) work (…) yesterday yourself seems give later (the) world(‘s best) dragon doctor

        Honey, (most) creatures (like the) mouse wanted human earth (like illite). Dead indeed soon others follow…

        #1428
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Ahahaha!! I just noticed that when I linked it to Sanso’s cave…….Oh Ahaha! Is THAT what you meant by congratulating me this morning? :yahoo_oh_go_on:

          I’m delighted that the 1111th comment was in connection with all this marvellous (rats can’t remember the damn name) you know, this Russian stuff…..:yahoo_big_grin:

          #709
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Zhana was so happy that she started to sing .

            That’s beautiful! exclaimed Sanso, Sing another one!

            So Zhana sang some more.

            Whoa! said Sanso. Weirdo singing!

            Oh! Zhana looked crestfallen. Don’t you like it?

            Hahaha, Oh yes, I love it! Please, sing some more.

            Well…….oh, alright. And Zhana sang for Sanso…..and sang some more……

            Where did you learn to sing like that? asked Sanso politely.

            Oh, haha, Zhana laughed and blushed. Granny used to sing like that. Zhana sighed wistfully, remembering her grandmother. If only they hadn’t had to kill her when she got too old to be useful.

            Sanso closed his eyes, feeling a song coming to his own lips from somewhere deep inside him.

            Sanso suddenly felt sleepy after all the strange singing, and lay down on the mushroom speckled forrest floor and drifted into a strange dream of mice and birds and a topsy turvy world.

            Zhana wasn’t really tired, after all, she had only just woken from her sleep when she met Sanso, but she lay down beside him and after awhile she drifted off. She had some strange dreams too.

            #2111

            In reply to: Snooteries

            The SnootThe Snoot
            Participant

              The Last Member Brownie, I like your friend Elias, as he’s aware of his cleaning and sleeping aspects.
              The Snoot does not need to hold tensions as he does not need to hold crottes and let go of them in great lovingness and appreciation of you all.
              Next time you try to make tea with mushroom, don’t forget to wash your hands… lest your dogs have some in their bed too when you practice your cleaning aspect…

              The Sleepy Sn :yahoo_yawn: :yahoo_sleepy: t

              #1893
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Remember when I woke up one morning saying ‘The Midden Man”? No? Well, I’m just making a note of it here in case I want to peruse this later.

                #708
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Finn knew what She was up to, even if Finn couldn’t remember what Her name was currently. She was trying to get all the remaining “570” comments.

                  Fuck it said Finn, (with an evil laugh, just for added effect) 579 is mine, even if I have bugger all to say.

                  #707

                  Phew, thank Flove for that, I’m not dead. Illi had just surprised herself rather unsettlingly, but no sooner had her hand fluttered to her chest in a dramatic little gesture, she remembered hearing somewhere that’s how you could tell if you were dead or alive: no surprises when you’re dead. She waved her hand airily, and laughed. At least I’m alive. :yahoo_whew:

                  #1685

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  Jib
                  Participant

                    I asked that to Elias in one of my sessions. I don’t think it is lilac but I don’t remember.
                    I’m going to look for it tonight.

                    #702

                    There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                    It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                    A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                    Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                    Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                    A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                    Oh! Who’s there?

                    A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                    Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                    Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                    Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                    Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                    Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                    I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                    What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                    Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                    Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                    Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                    Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                    Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                    Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                    She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                    Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                    Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                    Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                    #1681

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Some interesting development came today, as I was brooding a new comment about the twins and their books, and other sorts of interactions surrounding this.
                      I found out a new movie, based on a series of children books: Spiderwick, which features twins, an old book, and strange creatures.
                      Of course, there is the old mansion (in New-England, US), and the name is reminiscent of Wrick too. Not to mention the “spider” which is linked for me not only to the spiders on the island(s), but more so to Francie’s last discussions and post on her multiply blog which I happened to have found only yesterday, though I remember Francie mentioning it at the time.

                      The creators of these books are a writer (Holly Black) and an illustrator (Tony DiTerlizzi), so this is also a collaborative work, and probably a hint for success :face-grin:
                      By the way, with all these “holy” jokes recently, “Holly Black” seems like more than just a nice perspective :yahoo_yin_yang:

                      The website of the movie is also quite interesting to navigate inside, very well done…

                      #691

                      So tell us about Russia, Elvira, Fleur asked the rather formidably silent old woman. What was it like?

                      Elvira raised an eyebrow, and then frowned. Well, I…..quite honestly I don’t remember much about it. She sighed deeply and her shoulders sagged.

                      Well, did you take any photos? pressed Fleur. Did you bring any souvenirs back?

                      Oh, I…..yes, I have some photos……

                      Elvira rummaged in her oversized carpet bag and pulled out a manila envelope, tattered along the edges. She passed it to Fleur.

                      #686
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Its energy was different, new aspects were present now, and they were opposing in a way to the ones the snoot had noticed before.
                        The snoot was puzzled and amused, it could remember a time when it was familiar with similar aspects… were they coming to the forefront again?
                        It hadn’t felt them though. It was so sudden, but the snoot was curious about itself and it was amazingly blazing in its perception.
                        The snoot added some colorful vibration in the surrounding environment, it felt its vibrational quality merging with the one of its forest self and its earthly being and it moved its attention to the most protective aspect. It was buzzing its interest to it and telling it how wonderful it was. The quality was slowly shifting.
                        And then a swirling and not so physical aspect began turning around this one. The snoot was surprised at the ease with which this one was moving, and the directions it was opening to the protective one. The snoot was usually expressing quietness and a kind of slowness of time, though it was feeling the acceleration and it was feeling its own quality change.
                        The change was quite funny as the snoot was beginning to narrow its focuses.
                        It chose the mergence.

                        #685

                        Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

                        Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

                        Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

                        The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

                        Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

                        She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

                        Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

                        I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

                        Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

                        Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

                        And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

                        Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

                        I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

                        Yeah, right…..

                        Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

                        The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

                        Where have all my interesting things GONE?

                        #1665

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          EGGS:

                          well today i bought a dozen eggs for the first time in ages, also i noticed the quote of the day had eggs in it, Tina’s head or somene’s head …. and you remember how we used to make all those egg puns like eggstremely, eggcetera … well the heading of an article on yahoo today was “‘Eggstremely’ weird – A chicken in Mexico is laying green eggs and nobody can figure out why” (i will put the link in later i am a bit tired now to find it) and our dragon eggs were also emerald green.

                          #676

                          A hotel room in New Venice, January 2034

                          Sean had agreed reluctantly.
                          As his father Lord Wrick had been aware for some time, Sean had been heavily drinking following the death of Margaret, and though he could still speak with her, he had a hard time not to take her as an illusion from his guilty mind.
                          So, wary of the impacts on his grand-children, Guinevere and Peregrine, Hilarion Wrick had demanded him to personally take care of their education, and have them move with him. The year before, he had acquired an old mansion in the Orkney Islands, in a healthy location far from the buzz of towns, and was in the process of having it restored. Its previous owner, Baron O’Dolly seemed to have disappeared and Lord Wrick had seized the occasion, as there was a nice big area of land around the place. Restoration would soon be over, he’d said, and he was wishing the children would move in the next spring.

                          Of course, Sean had known that his father’s proposal was no mere proposal. With the wealth and lawyers he had at his disposal, even if he would have to wait years, he could get what he was wanting. Even if he was to crush everything in the process. So he had agreed.

                          Why do you feel sorry? You are no fit to raise children, and Becky is certainly no better than you… the ghost of Margaret was saying
                          You know what it is, I feel so inadequate… What will my children remember of me?
                          Don’t be stupid, they love you… And I’ll talk to them… On the contrary, loving the old bat won’t be as easy for them

                          This almost brought up a smile on Sean’s face.

                          Yes, you’re right, and you are right for Becky and I… Perhaps we’ll have children, but for now, I suppose we want to enjoy being together, and take a deep bracing breath.
                          Then stop being so gloomy and go call her. Perhaps you even want to start looking for an apartment in New Venice for both of you, to make her a big nice surprise for your wedding. She didn’t seem so fond of the idea of staying in Dublin for extended periods of time.
                          Yes! And I’ll book our honey moon too… She wants to see so many places I suppose I’ll have to book a cruise over the world. And perhaps get tickets for the first trip in the cross-oceanic tunnel… Thank you Margaret, I’m so full of projects…
                          Why, thank YOU, she said with a bwink (a simultaneous blinking and winking, in ghost’s jargon).

                          #672

                          Twilight was in a reflective frame of mind. She had felt real sad saying goodbye to her brothers, and that Blue Bull Elroy had won was worrying away at her. She’d had a dream about it the other night, the bull had got loose and it was all her doing. Well she didn’t remember much more than that about the dream, but it left her with a worried feeling.

                          What is is honey? asked Mama Belle , who had been watching the quiet girl and had seen the shadow pass over her face.

                          Oh it aint nothing much, I am just being addled brained. I were thinking about my brothers.

                          Well honey, you just say your prayers for them at night, and leave them to the Good Lord to mind out for. One thing don’t do nobody no good ever is worrying.

                          Do you believe in God, Mama Belle?

                          Mama Belle chuckled. Sure I believe in God, even though all my life people said I must be born of the devil to get this way. Her eyes took on a faraway look. When I was little my mother said to me, “God must sure love you Belle. He knows you one of his special children to give you such a hard testing in life. He knows you can take it.” Well I took that to heart, and fact is, far as I know, we only got one shot at this life. So I might as well make the best of things I reckon. The sun still shines on Belle honey, don’t you worry.

                          Must be hard for the sun to get through all that hair though, thought Twilight, feeling a bit sad for what her friend had been through.

                          Them’s the freaks I reckon, those ones that pay just to come and have a look see.

                          :fleuron:

                          Dear Elroy and Jo

                          I am having a fine time here, meeting some real nice folks. Mr Elson has got a plan to put some of my dancing in the show, in an act along with Bleep and Flop, that’s two of the little folks, Bleep is only 3 foot high, and Flop is not much more than a few inches taller. Well it will be fun and it means I will get paid more than just minding them babies.

                          Felix Otterworthy, or they call him “the Otter Man” on account of the fact he ain’t go no legs, is a very learned gentleman. He has said he will help me some with my writing if I would like. Well, that is probably the thing I feel most excited about. He read one of my stories, and said it showed “some potential”.

                          So it is all going fine. I can hear them now doing the first call of the day, so this is a short letter for now.

                          My friend Mama Belle says I should pray for you boys. I said, “I reckon them two are beyond help”.

                          Well I am only making fun, got to go now, Be sure and write me something back.

                          lots of love Twi

                          :fleuron2:

                          ROLL UP! ROLL UP! WELCOME TO FABULOUSLY GREAT FREAKUS CIRCUS! THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH! See extraordinary acts and amazing feats! COME AND MEET THE FREAKS! See the Man with Two Heads, yes that’s what I said, TWO HEADS. Meet the ugliest woman that ever walked the face of the earth, that’s if you can stand to look at her! ROLL UP! ROLL UP!

                          Another day at the circus was starting.

                          #1647

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            111 emails in the inbox this morning, too :yahoo_oh_go_on:
                            Rabbits, owls, neptunes and herons….. :cluebox:
                            oh and driftwood :fleuron2: (driftwood icon)
                            OH! In today’s paper: normal people tell 88,000 lies (that’s either a year or a lifetime, I can’t remember), and that’s not including probable selves. We are not normal, therefore we are an exception :yahoo_winking:

                            #1645

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Yesterday, after Jib’s comment (#529) about the flying car (see video) and nine-tailed foxes, we were heading to the railway station, and a yellow car came just in front of us, with FOX written above the license plate (which was 9359 as far as I remember, because it made me think of the XSAMX one by Francie)…
                              WTM

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