There is an upside to the pandemic.
Woke up from an enjoyable dream in which I was hitting people fiercely with a rough walking stick suitable for hiking, because they were not wearing their masks. Many people.
Damned kids, get off my public transit conveyance!
Also, two phrases in my head, and the French National Anthem from the Empire. Derech eretz, minhag hamakom, and Le Chant du Départ. No, not Partant pour la Syrie (unofficial, during the Napoleonic period), which is remarkably silly, sappy even. Le Chant du Départ has vim. Vigour. Spirit. Derech eretz in the main means good manners, common courtesies, politesse.
Minhag hamakom refers to the customs of the place, accepted practise.
My dreams tend toward slightly berserk nowadays.
Courtesy of the medication I am on.
It's rather fun.
Having finished my first cup of coffee, I'm heading out soon for the first pipe of the day.
A squat bulldog by GBD
Astleys No. 109 in a lovely old piece by Ganneval, Bondier & Donninger. It's a briar I've had for decades. Very suitable for stomping through the scrub jungle of Nob Hill, where the leopards roam and muntjac forage. I shall indulge my wild side.
With civilized restraint.
It's Autumn.
TOBACCO INDEX
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No comments:
Post a Comment