Back in Oregon,
Old Man Guinnias, a remarkable goat in case you didn't know, started having a cocktail hour for the other elders. I had nothing to do with it. I have no idea where the gin came from, or the glass ware. I did catch this conversation one night as I did barn chores. It makes me think a cocktail hour might be something to suggest to the elders here. Spirits area fine companion under the setting sun, a way to release memories if done properly. There was that time Wilbur the Acrobatic Goat found Guinness's gin stash though. It's just, without The Head Troll, I am quite lost at organizing them all....perhaps someone will begin to be in charge and more cocktails will be served. We shall see.
"What time does cocktail hour begin?" asked
Aunt Bea.
"Same time as yesterday, 5 pm," said Old Man Guinnias.
"When was yesterday?" asked
Lofa.
"It was not today, but the day before," said Guinnias.
"What time does cocktail hour begin?" said Lofa.
