I remember driving past the sheepfarm when I was a kid and wondering what the woman I knew lived there was like when she was young
If maybe a cad claimed then discarded her, beaten, outwitted, alone.
She then had to return to her brothers' (as in 2) as a fallen woman,
the elopement was an unmitigated failure and the SPINSTER began the task of raising a whole generation of neophyte hippy barbie natural country women
to thinking that spinning wool or drinking goat's milk was the greatest thing for the new movement then just forming.
Man you ever try goats milk in your coffee?
I think this was the reckless brother's work...
Rocco, thinking like that when driving can get you killed.
I realised yesterday, for the umpteenth time, that I should really stop playing music in the car - letting the CDs play, I mean.
The problem is that the Fiesta has a dumb ergo setup: your hands, in classical ten-past-ten position, obscure the flashing arrows at the extremes of the left and right of the tiny dash space, and the clicking sound is so low that I can hardly hear it. Yesterday, it took me about a kilometre to realise that the car flashing me as it approached along the long Roman road between Pollensa and Puerto Pollensa wasn't giving me an early warning signal of a speed control. That could be quite disastrous, especially at roundabouts. The problem, of course, is that the damned indicators seldom cancel themelves out. I went back to the dealer just after I bought the car, and he told me they were all the same, even his new Focus...
There was an item on Sky news this morning about a woman who had left a realtionship where she was being beaten up. On the face of it, she sounded relatively well-spoken and intelligent. And then she claimed not to have realised that she was in
a violent, abusive realationship. What sort of sense of normality do some people have? Why would you hit someone you love? Why would you stay after strike one? Abandon the moron at once!