Sometimes on-island
We have wine and cheese for lunch
Just because we can
Such is life upon our undisclosed offshore location, which may explain why our postings have become fewer and further between. After the requisite cutting and clearing of brush (we haven't fully overcome our ancestor's Puritanical nature), the days are intermixed with kayaking, quarrying, acting as ballast on sailing sloops, reading, (occasionally) writing, and taking delicious afternoon naps.
This regimen is occasionally interrupted by forays into the "big town," such as the one we undertook a fortnight or so ago, which included a meal in the rusticated inn. After the meal, we shook hands with a gentleman in salmon slacks(the standard genteel flatlander's uniform), in which we alleviated the guilt of our respective parties in detaining the overworked staff until past 10. I learned later that he was, in fact, the brother of a former president. While we were both ignorant of each other's identity at the time, only one of us, still, remains (blissfully) so.
