Heather and Peter had been married for eleven years or so. Heather had learned to put up with Peter’s eccentricities. In fact, she went further and knew that if she whole-heartedly and enthusiastically entered into the spirit of his latest eccentric enthusiasm he’d quickly drop it and move on, hopefully, to something less crazy.
Peter’s latest eccentric enthusiasm was to build a tank that could be lowered into the nearby river. The tank had a glass side and enabled a lover of the environment to sit in the tank and view the fish and all the goings on deep down in the beautiful clear waters. Of course, one wore swimming attire because the tank wasn’t water proof so one breathed through a tube that went up above the surface of the water. (Peter’s inventions were rarely perfect).
Heather feigned her usual enthusiasm. After giving careful instructions, Peter lowered the tank deep into the river with Heather inside breathing through the tube.
To be honest, once the sand on the bottom of the river had settled there wasn’t much to see. In fact, Heather didn’t see a single fish. She pulled the rope which was the sign for the tank to be raised. Once Peter opened the tank and Heather stepped out she explained as nicely as she could (so as not to dampen his enthusiasm) that she hadn’t seen a single fish and maybe the invention wasn’t the best thing he had done.
“Oh but you simply must have been lowered at the wrong time. Try it again!” declared Peter. “I promise you you’ll see a fish or two.”
Heather was once again lowered. Once again there were no fish. Heather pulled the rope to signal to Peter that she wished the tank raised. She should have waited longer. Peter blocked the breathing tube.
Not only will you see fish but you’ll sleep with the fishes!
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Do fish sleep?
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That’s a good question. If only we had some sort of tank we could lower into the river to see…
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Yvonne had a photo of such tanks just north of Venice. Perhaps we could meet there.
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Certainly. If I’m not there in five minutes feel free to start without me.
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Too late. I’ve taken off with a mermaid.
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Happy sailing, then!
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Wait for me, I’ll show you where they are. Let’s see: swimming togs, snorkel, rope ..
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You go first – and watch out for those little moechi. I was going to credit you with inspiration for this story but the new editing things of WP are driving me a little crazy.
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I click on WP Admin in the dashboard, then on All Pages via the Pages Icon. Then on the bit that shows Add New, I use the drop down menu and select Classic Editor. I wonder if that will work for you? I can’t be coping with that Block(head) Editor thing!!!!
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I shall try that – I usually start a page with the blockhead, save it as draft and then when I bring it up again I can use the classic editor. I shall try your short cut.
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I hope it works for you.
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Peter refused to fail…got to admire that spirit!
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Sometimes I worry about you Max!
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I’ve heard that before.
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I would have never gone in that tank!
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Oh Sylvie – what happened to your sense of adventure!
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It dissolved in the tank, I’m afraid🙂
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Ha!
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It appears the legendary storyteller has honed his Muse further in the interregnum. The murders are no longer swift and decisive —they are slow and full of tragic anticipation!
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Slow can make one appreciate the process…
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How dastardly devious. I wonder if he’d been down to check it out?
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Once hopes he is going soon to take a dive.
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