Wednesday, 11 April 2012

A rambling we will go -


My dear friend Munro Tweeder-Harris recently contacted me to enquire if I wished to partake of a gentle ramble to help lift the spirits, and of course, I replied with utmost enthusiasm "Yes, indeed, Sir".

You see, rambling is not just about visiting interesting places, seeing interesting things, eating interesting cake and drinking interesting tea.
It is indeed all of those things. It is most of all, sharing interesting times with friends. To laugh, to smile, indeed to enjoy oneself in the company of others and lift the spirits and bank some emotional resilience for the tough times.

Ragged Rambling is perhaps one of the most splendid ways to accomplish this and I wouldn't have it any other way!

Huzzah.

8 comments:

  1. I am rambling the rest of this week at the British Museum, if not I would have loved the chance to share some laughter with you..

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  2. Dear Many Coats,
    I am most heartened to hear you will be off a rambling at that esteemed establishment, but saddened also that you would not be able to accompany us. However I should like to extend my wizened hand of friendship and tea/cake making and ask if we can put our diaries together for a good chinwag and sort a date out for said laughter... Huzzahh good fellow

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    Replies
    1. Let me know your movements Thadeus...

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  3. That sounds just what I needed today. I had the tea, cakes and things, but... somehow , I just didn't get that 'GERTCHA!' factor which makes all the difference. You must be one of the few fortunate fellows to live within the clammy, flat confines of Norfolkshire. Keep it up.

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    1. You are thinking of them there Lincolnshire and Cambridgeshire Fens Tom, where tis true that they only have one small hill between them. Whereas in Norfolk we have three (if you count the man made mound of of Norwich Castle)

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    2. Please forgive the extra of. I had one going spare and could not bring myself to waste it....

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  4. I say Thad old boy, that's a rather humorous looking statue you've got there, like something out of a Carry On motion-picture, chap holding his own head, what. Am I right in guessing it's Saint Denis, who after getting his block whacked off by some beastly Romans, marched along the road carrying it, still preaching, till he dumped it down where St Denis is now (in France, I mean)? It's a topper story, eh?

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