Egg nog and rum make for cheery caroling in Catalina. I'm no pirate but I sure can understand why they always had the bottle handy as they chortled like Santa Claus over the seven seas...just not so sure about the egg nog part, they never really seemed to sing much about that. I'm wondering, if I become a connoisseur of whiskey would it improve my ability to appreciate finer things? I've given up on beer as a hobby and try as I might to enjoy the good fruit of the vine I've not been too successful at making myself like wine either. I'm thinking that maybe I'm just to rough to be civilised by the subtle and delicate prodding of these milder drinks and really need some pure straight acid wash to cut to the quick as they say and get down to the nitty gritty. Well, this is hardly the season for taking up a new bad habit and since I weigh about as much as a skinned rabbit I think a little discernment is in order. I will, though, continue to imbibe as much as possible the refreshing draughts of paint fumes and turpentine that permeate everything here. I'll find the kids, from time to time, smelling my clothes or something else that reeks of oil paint with a faraway smile muttering something about how this smells like dad. I won't guarantee that this painting doesn't smell like dad but it should look like a place you want to be. Offered on auction here this week.
