The Particular Accidents Gone By

And so, following late night revels, the first of 2007 saw a veritable parade of moments: Oysters and Costumes and Songs and Schnapps and Haggis and Kelvin and Dancing and Moose Milk and Shakespearean beginnings and Resolutions among Resolutes and the lost dignity and blackberry in Purcells Cove (one of which took/takes longer to recover than another.

I have photographic evidence of the occasion and will endeavour to assort it into a top ten list of travels in the "entourage" of the Deputy Mayor this weekend. Forgive me as I complete my recovery from the revels and leave you with more words of the Bard near the conclusion of the Tempest. Since I must miss his Antony by scant days, I may to seek out Stewart's Prospero instead...

ALONSO
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?

SEBASTIAN
He is drunk now: where had he wine?

ALONSO
And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
How camest thou in this pickle?

TRINCULO
I have been in such a pickle since I
saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of
my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

SEBASTIAN
Why, how now, Stephano!

STEPHANO
O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

PROSPERO
You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?

STEPHANO
I should have been a sore one then.