Saturday, 14 May 2011
The English love of a picnic
There was an Irishman who was more of a wiseman than his fellow men. He stated that even if your father was tall, you have to do all the growing to get as tall yourself. Wise words indeed.
He tells the story of visiting London and walking in Hyde park. All around him people were taking out their picnic things, blankets to sit on, folding chairs, folding tables, table cloths and baskets full of delicious food. As he watched the sky darkened and a thunder storm drenched everyone. After running for shelter under a bridge, he looked back and to his astonishment realised all the English were staying put.
It was almost as if the English were saying to the heavens.
"No matter what you do we are having our picnic, we will be about an hour and a half then we will go inside again, for now we will picnic."
It is like the holidaymakers that come down to our beaches during half term and building castles, walking around with a bikini on and slowly turning blue. Talking of the beach, I took Sam for a walk this morning, very flat - see photograph. Click it to open.
Pamagor has Irish roots, more from the Irish whiskey then actually dependence. Angela wants to know who Pamagor is? That is the thousand dollar question, maybe some research of previous blogs will shed a little light on this cad. Good luck.
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