I've been listening to Tom Waits while driving through windy hillsides.
I've been listening to Leonard Cohen while sitting by the fire.
I've been reading Dylan Thomas and Seamus Heaney. I would, if it was at all possible, rather like to have a stroke that affected the language centre of the brain in such a way that instead of producing word salads I could only ever talk like Dylan Thomas' poetry. No one would have the faintest clue of what I was saying, but it would be beautiful.
I saw two Irish wolfhounds and a peregrine falcon yesterday. I petted two of the three, and felt that it was overall a rather aristocratic day.
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5 comments:
lol - sometimes, my lovely Megan, it is difficult enough for us to understand you as it is! :P
I know it! I do, and sorry, but it's just how it comes out.
Not like Dylan, sadly.
hey, what is it with big dogs and you? I remember when you patted two great danes' while strapped into a stroller?
You spoke Like Dylan Thomas then!
I must have been a very advanced toddler. Why didn't you enter me into some kind of baby genius programme?
Loving your blogs Megan, I take it you decided not to attempt petting the falcon ;)
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