...est la première image postée sur ce blog le 22 mars 2007, soit il y a un peu plus de 19 ans.
Ce blog va se faire plus épisodique, je ne dis pas qu'il va se mettre complètement en sommeil mais il va sûrement faire de beaux rêves. J'en profite pour réécouter ces petites chansons
Rebecca Pidgeon - Medley : Auld Lang Syne/Bring it on home
de l'album The New York girl's club, 1995
David Mamet pour le poème introductif
Trad./Robert Burns pour Auld Lang Syne,
paroles et musique de Sam Cooke pour Bring it on home
que j'avais déjà postées lors d'un (précédent) endormissement de ces notules oculo-félines. Mais Auld Lang Syne ce n'est qu'un au revoir.
Prenez grand soin de vous par ces temps contrastés.
There
was just one thing more I wanted to know. Could she, I asked, catch
mice? It was like asking a speed maniac if his car could do fifty on the
flat. 'Mice,' roared Father Adams in a voice that vibrated with scorn.
'She brut a gert snake in t'other day four foot long, with his'ead bit
clean off, and played with 'un like he were a bit o' string'.
Within
a few weeks both Adams and I were sadder, wiser people. The next time
she came in season Mimi ripped the seat clean out of the armchair, drove
the whole village nearly round the bend with her bawling and finally
jumped out of the bedroom window and fled up the lane to the farm, where
she was only saved from a fate worse than death by the fact that her dusky Oriental face and blazing blue eyes frightened the battle-scarred old tom who lived there nearly out of his wits, and he was still hiding behind the water-butt when Mrs Adams, wailing and wringing her hands, panted up the hill in her wake.