Midges and malt
Jul. 4th, 2005 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
f4f3Up at the cottage tonight, on me own. Eddi Reader live concert on iTunes, a nice malt, and the sun reluctantly sinking into loch fyne (actualy, into the Sound of Jura, 10 miles behind me, but I prefer the view down loch fyne to the one along the canal, so humour me, ok?). something about the cottage, or malt, or Ms Reader, or some combination of all three puts me in a meditative mood, and a writing one. When I fancied myself a writer, I'd alternate sips of Glenmorangie with pecks at my little portable typewriter. Usually to a background of Tom Waits. I turned out some not bad stuff on that, too.
Anyway, it's a good position for meditation, out on the porch. Up in the garden would probably be more in harmony with nature (I could try to stare out Little Buddah, for one thing) but the midges are fiercer than I am about sharing our common lifeblood, so I can stay perched on wicker, and not have to spit the wee buggers out of my dram.
I suspect I'll sit here until it gets dark, an hour or so from now, and think long thoughts. Which will stay my own, for now.
Slainte
Anyway, it's a good position for meditation, out on the porch. Up in the garden would probably be more in harmony with nature (I could try to stare out Little Buddah, for one thing) but the midges are fiercer than I am about sharing our common lifeblood, so I can stay perched on wicker, and not have to spit the wee buggers out of my dram.
I suspect I'll sit here until it gets dark, an hour or so from now, and think long thoughts. Which will stay my own, for now.
Slainte
