“men! life’s not for vino; life’s for sweeping.”

i was wearing my nora batty socks the other day and thought it was about time you were introduced.  she’s awesome.  although i’m sure you must have bumped into the “last of the summer wine” at some point.  sometimes you have to hang in there a bit to appreciate it, but it’s one of my husband’s favorite shows.  i can easily picture him happily widowed and wandering aimlessly around the english countryside pestering upstanding women of impeccable moral rrectitude.

alvin:  i’m alvin, vaulter of rivers!
nora:  don’t look.  it only encourages him.
ivy:  i’ve never seen anyone with a firmer hold on stupidity.
nora:  why do they settle here?  why don’t they go and annoy australia?
ivy:  they’d never find australia.

i really do want the shirt.  i think it would become me.

nora:  what are you doing wearing that thing?
alvin:  [removes gas mask] i’m trying to breathe is what i’m doing.  what are you doing with that brush? every morning you come out here, you move that dust to there and that dust to there.  why don’t you just whistle?  it must know where to go by now.
nora:  all swept up.  places need sweeping up.
alvin:  right.  well, tell me this then: what are you going to do with it when it’s swept?
nora:  do with it?  why?  what should i do with it?
alvin:  well, why are you sweeping it if you don’t know what you’re going to do with it?
nora:  what can I do with it?
alvin:  enjoy it.  you swept it clean; have you ever thought of enjoying it?
nora:  i enjoy it being clean.
alvin:  have you ever thought of quality leisure time?  a little table outside, a few chairs, a glass of vino.
nora:  men!  life’s not for vino; life’s for sweeping.


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