Marty

And, sadly, that's really all you can do, Randy. I'm not a religious person, in fact I'm an atheist, so I don't think any prayers I might offer will be of any use. But do know that I am thinking good thoughts for you, and for Josh, and for your son, at this trying time.

Here's one of my all time favourite performers, Leonard Cohen, performing at Lissadell House in County Sligo in 2010; at a concert that left me gobsmacked when I attended it. He was still able to hold an audience spellbound; just the same as he had done when I had first seen him perform at the Isle of Wight festival way back in 1970.

So sorry to hear that, Randy. I hope everything works out for the best.

Good evening, Randy. Hope all's well with you.

A very realistic, if somewhat sad, first chapter. The sense of rejection was almost palpable. I can remember several times in my younger days when similar things happened to me. The one that probably really cut me to the bone was when I simply asked one guy if I could see him again, and his "God, no! I'm just looking for hookups. If you're looking for love, you'll need to look elsewhere," reply as he walked away from me, stays with me to this day. The "I couldn't remember his name" thought near the start of the chapter, when Chris found Shawn sharing his bed the next morning, also reminded me of similar occasions from my own dim and distant past. I'm reminiscing about things from around half a century ago here, but it seems from reading this chapter that some things haven't necessarily changed all that much in the interim. Fingers crossed that Chris does finally find what he's looking for. I hope he doesn't actually stop looking. To quote a line from one of Bette Midler's songs ("The Rose"): "It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance."

Good evening, young Albert.

I'm not for a moment disputing the origin of the above quote, but reading it made me think of this one...

Oh look at the page we're on!!! All the sevens! <does the happy dance>>

Good afternoon, Gary. Alles gut mit dir? (All good with you?)

I sat in the railway carriage, listening to the rhythmic sound from the wheels as they went over the joints between the tracks. My luggage, consisting of a rucksack and a somewhat battered old suitcase, was safely stowed on the luggage rack above my head. I wasn't sure if I had packed everything I needed. After all, I had never actually left home before. Sure, I'd been away from home quite a number of times during the previous four years or so - like holidays, either by myself or with one or mor

Hiding part of what makes you who you are may sometimes seem necessary. And sometimes you may hide a part of yourself so well that you don't even realise that it exists. Danny Murphy seems to be living a charmed life. But he has a secret; one that he tries to keep so well hidden that he doesn't even want to admit it to himself. However, if he is hiding part of his real self, not just from others but also from himself, is his life really as charmed as it may seem?

Good afternoon, clo G'day, dug Blue sky with lots of puffy white clouds here in the West of Ireland today. Temperature currently 15°C (59°F) with hardly any wind, so feeling warmer when the sun is not behind the clouds. Glad to hear the aunt seems to be doing well.

Oh? Just how do you know that much about him, clo? (And do we really want to know? )

Going somewhere, Drew? Okie-dokie. Hasta la vista, mi amigo! Chat you when you get back.

Drew's not a man! He's just a hobbledehoy.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" (Or Drew, in this case)

I'm really not sure why Drew and Albert's recent wittle pwetend battle for superiority made me think of the following...

But clo never specified the sex of the elephant... 😛

As an elderly farmer and neighbour said to me years ago, when I used keep a few animals and was bemoaning the unexpected death of a young suckler calf from pneumonia... "The only way to be sure you'll never have trouble with your livestock is to never keep livestock in the first place." Wise words from a wise old man.

Round your place, Albert? The flatulence wind, is it? Or is something happening here in CoTT that I haven't noticed?

A case of Lost in translation....

Good evening, young Albert

Hi right bakatya, Drew Dood! I know sometimes resistance may seem futile, but there really are those few times when it should at least be attempted... Hi, Val, btw!! Howya, Page!

Almost clean shaven.... (I'm getting predictable, aren't I )

Happens to all of us, my friend. Have you noticed how, if I edit one of my comments on here, I often show "Correcting another of my inevitable typos" as the reason for the edit?