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Yep, still phoning it in

I went to lunch with the neighbors today (Uncle B couldn’t come; he had too much work) and those wiley old coots drank me under the table. Why am I always the youngest person in my cohort?

Man, those old wrinklies can put it away!

Anyway, my hostess’ sheep were just back from the Winter pasture, so here’s a painting of a ewe I did a long time ago. I don’t know if they always moved sheep around all year (you’d have to think in the days before truck transport it would be a real chore), but they all do it here.

Good weekend, everyone!


Comment from QuasiModo
Time: January 11, 2014, 12:40 am

Those evening hangovers are murder, aren’t they?

Comment from Deborah
Time: January 11, 2014, 2:44 am

I like sheeps, but I don’t know anything about them. I liked those little white lambs with black stockings that I saw in Scotland. They were grazing in grass so tall they almost disappeared. It was enough to make a Texas rancher weep. I grew up in beef cattle country so rough it was calibrated by acres per head, not heads per acre, and sheep were unthinkable.

Your sheep portrait is lovely. There is a kindness about the face that I like (with a hint of resignation), though I suspect all your animals would look kind, even Br’er Fox.

Re: drinking. So what were you and the wrinklies drinking?

I was sick for a month, and thus began to experiment with hot toddies. Do the English have a bourbon? So: 1 oz of whiskey ( I use Jim Beam), 1/3 c. water, 1 tablespoon honey, and 2 teaspoons of (fresh) lemon juice. Heat the water and whiskey until boiling. Stir in the honey and lemon juice. This is a delicate balance and is amazingly delicious. Sip, slowly, because you will want to gulp it down.

Comment from gromulin of the tablet
Time: January 11, 2014, 3:28 am

You do good sheepses.

Comment from Steve Skubinna
Time: January 11, 2014, 6:53 am

Deborah, the English can’t have a Bourbon. Two legal requirements: one, must be made from at least 51% corn mash and two, must be made in the US.

You can make toddies with Scotch but I find the flavor too strongly idiosyncratic. Irish whiskies work better for me. For my toddies I don’t measure the lemon juice, just squeeze half of one into the mug. They’re also not bad if you use hot tea in place of the water, but in that case they might be more properly called a punch.

Comment from drew458
Time: January 11, 2014, 7:39 am

A chore? No, it was a job. There used to be people called shepherds who would move the flocks about. Sometimes they’d have dogs to help them. With a big enough flock and pasture, sometimes the shepherd would camp out amongst the sheep for weeks at a time. I guess moving them between pastures by lorry these days is more efficient. Though not as picturesque.

Comment from ed
Time: January 11, 2014, 11:09 am

When feeling ill I don’t reach for a hot toddy. I reach for a chili-cheese hotdog with raw onions, pickles and the “works” on it. And make it a triple!

If I die then I was too sick to survive. If I live then I’ll be so sick that whatever ails me will die first.


Comment from Stark Dickflüssig
Time: January 11, 2014, 4:46 pm

A hot-dog sounds kinda good right now. You could use a cheese pizza as a bun, & substitute pulled pork for the mustard/ketchup.

Comment from Mojo
Time: January 11, 2014, 11:17 pm

“The one thing you an be sure about with an old geezer is that they’re a survivor.”

Comment from bad cat robot
Time: January 13, 2014, 7:49 pm

I would like to state for the record I may have the only physics thesis with a commissioned illustration of sheep. (It was to illustrate the concept of nucleation sites for atomic cluster formation, honest!)

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