Perched atop the local Ramada nestled between Atakoy and Bakirkoy I still optate with the daily swing of the sea pulling on the chains. At anchor the puppies of the seas collared and waiting for the next filling or emptying.
To Fatima or to the Castle at Tomor, the Basques will never tell you what the Templars and the Rosy Crossed elders will. The Rose Chamber still holding secrets of a society. Here though, just off the Bosporus and Marmora the rain washes away the detritus of winter. Roses abloom already.
To whom cometh the spring? The long range in the Tario of On is as abysmal as todays. Contagious Single Digitosis extends through the end of May. No Cinco de Mayo for chew mang. While we pare and tarry for position, the orb known as Sol merely teases our senses. A glimpse and a dash, then more of the heavy Vancouverite sky covering. For those of you with any imaginary sky friend, you should be prostate at the alter supplicating for more.
Are you not confounded and bound at the same time to “Git Er Dun”? Absens de Opera only leads to heavier loads down the road. It’s to the point I am ready to liquidate. Not that our lawn has not already been nimis fluida already. Boats or bikes witch will be my theme this year. What is the equivalent of a Street Brat in Boat parlance? River Rat?
Go huntin’ river cats in my River Rat. Stagging my arm down the throat of some Mud Cat in Muddy Waters? Dang that sounds as appealing as having derma-abrasion with a belt sander. Chock me up! Vey be! Cok!
Sheesh bil kova Tavuk and its all tamam for you. I had hoped my presence was the issue. The 8 inches of snow followed me to Red Deer, and I thought I could drag it across the briny to the ‘Bul. Nowhere here in Istanbul that I can see. 20 C and change, most days very pleasant.
Don’t burn that Turkish brew Ibrahim
Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau.
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