Been an odd day. pottered this morning, changed into decent clobber about midday, then motored into Ipswich - to hospital - various check ups, mostly went well enough. At the end an Indian lady Surgeon, who I'd met before, came in (so I stood up- of course), she did the necessary examination and declared all was fairly well, and nothing further need be done, at present. Obviously I then thanked her for her time , helpfullness, and opinion; to which she replied "Ooh; I could take you home!", which, of course cheered me immensely, and was probably the best medicine she could have given!.
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Can't remember where the photo was taken, but it's typical of this area - South Suffolk.
Good Night All.
Thursday, 6 December 2018
Wednesday.
Been an odd day. pottered this morning, changed into decent clobber about midday, then motored into Ipswich - to hospital - various check ups, mostly went well enough. At the end an Indian lady Surgeon, who I'd met before, came in (so I stood up- of course), she did the necessary examination and declared all was fairly well, and nothing further need be done, at present. Obviously I then thanked her for her time , helpfullness, and opinion; to which she replied "Ooh; I could take you home!", which, of course cheered me immensely, and was probably the best medicine she could have given!.
_______________________________________________
Can't remember where the photo was taken, but it's typical of this area - South Suffolk.
Good Night All.
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9 comments:
Post Scriptum - Yes I can, though. It's a photo I took in Mendlesham, Suffolk, last week. It's a compact small town (village now). It still retains the remains of the armoury it put together to discourage the Spanish when the Armada was chucking its weight about on the North Sea in 1588.
You old charmer, you must have left the dear girl in a dither... personally I prefer leaving in a taxi.
I thought a dither was a many stringed musical instrument - or is that a zither?
Whither the zither of glorious youth?
Whence hither the dither of days?
Time turns on us all in a way that's uncouth,
And strands us all in a maze!
Please Carl, can you tell me whence that poetic effusion ? I don't know it. Reperusing it, it scans better with one more sylable in the last line, thus perhaps 'and strandeth us all in a maze', or am I being unnecessarily pedantic?
Or perhaps :- And leaveth us all in a daze.
Come, my dear boy, confess all - it's your own, isn't it?
It has much of the vertue of the sausage song :-
Of sausages we did a test,
to see which would come first.
We found the Cumberland's the best.
The German ones were wurst.
This pome was rote some years ago by a little known East Anglian versifier.
Please Carl, can you tell me whence that poetic effusion ? I don't know it. Reperusing it, it scans better with one more sylable in the last line, thus perhaps 'and strandeth us all in a maze', or am I being unnecessarily pedantic?
Alas, Alack, how right you are, Oh dearest Bruvver mine,
I do confess yon doggerel is just my silly rhyme.
Your kind suggestion I approve, and make amendment owed
as shown below with little grace, another "almost ode".
Whither the zither of glorious youth?
Whence hither the dither of days?
Time turns on us all in a way that's uncouth,
And tosses us all in a maze!
What wonderful wordsmiths you both are!
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