We've had alternate days of fine and foul.
Here's the fine.
And here's the fowl.
The House Captain would like to apologise for the marked
deterioration in the quality of this blog.
The photographer is making a valiant effort to raise the tone
but the author has been put on warning.
Puns, to quote Dryden are
'the lowest and most grovelling kind of wit'
or as Ambrose Bierce has it,
'a form of wit to which wise men stoop and fools aspire.'
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteWhere do the slippery wet steps go?
They go into the River Thames at Richmond.
DeleteLovely images. Good for the soul.
ReplyDeleteGood to see you winging it, Lucille; this post was quite a feather in your cap. Not that I want to egg you on or deem your other posts poultry.
ReplyDeleteA good pun is never a punishment
ReplyDeleteWell, the fine is very fine indeed. . . (and thank you Mise, for the chuckles)
ReplyDeleteWhere you lead, I will follow...with pleasure. xo
ReplyDeleteNo complaints from here! Fabulous photographs..
ReplyDeleteGroan. But in a good way.
ReplyDeleteI've only just read your comment over at my place, Lucille, and apologise for my laxness. Alas, no, I have never seen the recipe for Canasta Canapés but at least now have at last identified the great void in my life.
ReplyDeleteLooks like our river , at the moment .
ReplyDeletePeaceful and grey . Nothing squawking or splashing . Just a Christmas tree , floating past .
You made me smile, so thank you.
ReplyDeleteWill Shakespeare crammed his cheeks chock-full of puns and spat them out at regular intervals like the hulls of sunflower seeds. The dear boy was a friend to the masses...witless or otherwise. You are in good company.
ReplyDelete