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[flemmings]

The Johnson Cocktail consists of 3 parts gin, 2 parts French (dry) vermouth, and 1 part Italian (sweet) vermouth. I read a detective story once where someone pronounced the mixing of sweet and dry vermouths to be abominable. Turnes out he was the murderer.

My father collected Rowlandson prints (18th century British satirist, a bit more genial than Gillray, not as inspired as Hogarth) which he donated to the Art Gallery of Ontario after my mother died in 1979, except for the ones that hung in the house. Some years after his death in 1985 there was a big exhibition of these prints. At the opening ceremony the AGO served the Johnson Cocktail. It was probably the most hilarious opening the AGO has ever seen.

I mention this fact because I am currently drunk on Johnson Cocktails. (It only takes one.) This is how one survives renovations. I recommend it to anyone currently in any kind of difficulty.

Comments

[flemmings.livejournal.com]

But I'm not a camper. For many reasons, absence of lotsa hot water being the main one. (The flies and mosquitoes. The crawling insects. The hard ground. The paraphernalia. The need to be able to drive. The sleeping outside in a small enclosed space with no walls to protect you from the godawful rises at 5:30 something sun, which means waking at 5:30. Etc etc.) I am zen about no bathroom of my own for more-like-four-weeks because I have a sort of sento next door. But that's why someone else does my renovations. Three months of no bathroom is more than my zen will cover.

[mikeneko.livejournal.com]

But those are all the good parts. La, people are strange. ^_~

(Actually, it is more than anyone's zen would cover unless their going for the Buddha gusto. Even me, armed with +10 insanity, was weeping by the end.)

Although I loudly mock the entire idea of foofy pink bathrooms . . . I, uh, really like my parents'. Which is quite pink. Uh.