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4011. Ulgine Barrows - 7/13/2007 10:41:21 AM

Anyway. These kids taking pictures of things they loved.

I'd say 97% of the photos were of people. Only a few were pictures of things.

Very different culture than My House, USA - if I gave my kid a camera and told him to take pictures of things he loved, I doubt I'd show up in any of them.

But I would want to see what pictures he took, too.

4012. wonkers2 - 7/15/2007 6:13:16 PM

The Richest of the Rich Americans

4013. wonkers2 - 7/15/2007 6:13:42 PM

The Richest of the Rich Americans

4014. thoughtful - 7/16/2007 5:19:10 PM

We went to an antique car show yesterday with our 1948 cj-2a jeep and guess what....we won a trophy!

We were just tickled pink as there were about 450 cars there and didn't think we'd have a prayer.

4015. thoughtful - 7/16/2007 7:14:47 PM

4016. arkymalarky - 7/17/2007 1:30:39 AM

How cool! Great-looking car!

4017. TheWizardOfWhimsy - 7/17/2007 4:26:17 AM

Don't pass this up . . .

4018. thoughtful - 7/17/2007 2:09:56 PM

very good wiz...thx for posting.

4019. TheWizardOfWhimsy - 7/17/2007 2:42:00 PM

4020. alistairConnor - 10/20/2007 2:23:35 PM

Just a photo dump. A few months ago, up the hill from my place. Shrink-wrapped bales of silage.

















4021. TheWizardOfWhimsy - 10/20/2007 2:53:22 PM

Precious!

4022. judithathome - 10/20/2007 8:49:25 PM

Fabulous shots!!!!

4023. wabbit - 10/22/2007 4:09:19 PM

Wonderful! How well I remember sitting in an Irish bar in NYC with your girls and marjoribanks, and your eldest telling us emphatically that she was "quatre ans".

4024. wonkers2 - 10/27/2007 9:12:55 PM

Nice looking daughters, Alistaire!
Wonder what Banks is doing? He's disappeared.

4025. alistairConnor - 12/3/2007 12:33:11 AM

The continuing saga of my heating system...
On Wednesday, the new (wood-pellet) boiler was delivered in the middle of the courtyard. On Saturday, the installer turned up with a couple of hefty friends, and we were planning to take it down to the cellar for installation.

But it won't go... the stairway is narrow and it turns. Short of demolishing a wall... but after due reflection, it's easier to open up a doorway to the cellar from the garden.

Just try to get a mason. Before Christmas. Go on, try.
Luckily my tenant used to be a mason... so this morning we knocked a hole in the wall. Very easy to do : stone and clay, with a very thin veneer of lime mortar. The trick is knowing when to stop, before the house comes down around your ears.

So now we've got a hole, and one side of it concreted up again, and some hope of getting it finished by next weekend. So the heating people can do their thing. We ran out of fuel oil for the old boiler last week, and I'm not buying any more -- I've finished with fossil fuels. So we're burning wood to keep warm, in the meantime.

4026. TheWizardOfWhimsy - 12/3/2007 5:08:58 AM

Pictures! I want pictures!

4027. wonkers2 - 12/3/2007 5:17:04 AM

Of anything in particular? Alistaire's plumbing. Here are a few of Lake St. Clair and our local Richistan. Lake St. Clair Landmarks (Excuse if I've posted these before.)

4028. TheWizardOfWhimsy - 12/3/2007 5:53:40 AM

Jeeze wonk, you get around! No, I want to see the hole in AC's foundation and what the new furnace looks like.

4029. alistairconnor - 12/4/2007 12:14:21 PM

The parable of the kitten

Around the end of summer, my ex-wife mentioned that her cat had had kittens. She intended to keep only one. The kids were with her parents in Normandy. Better suppress the others quickly, I suggested, the girls will be back in a couple of days. I know, she sighed. Nobody likes drowning kittens. (If you do, gentle reader, please don't tell me about it.)

A couple of days later, my girlfriend announces that she wants a cat. I quickly phone the ex : too late! The dirty deed is done. The sole survivor, Petit Tom (= petit homme) has been adopted by the girls.

We reserved a kitten with other friends, but a couple of months later it died before weaning. She was still searching for a replacement when, a few days ago, the girls said that she was welcome to take Petit Tom.

So the girlfriend bustled around buying the requisite accessories, and bore him home in triumph.

And this is where the fun begins.

He craps everywhere. Sometimes in his box, for sure. But he likes variety.

This morning, as we emerged into the half-lit hallway, I felt a squishy sensation underfoot... Don't walk there! I cried, but it was too late... and there we both stood, naked, frozen like statues, one shitty foot raised... luckily no photographers were in attendance.

I wonder, she mused, could I give him back? You could always try, I said.

Same thing with me.

4030. wonkers2 - 12/4/2007 2:15:18 PM

Ha!

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