Awakenings ...

The extract below is taken from "Rip Van Winkle" - a short story written by Washington Irving published in 1819

"By degrees, Rip’s awe and apprehension subsided. He even ventured, when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found had much of the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another, and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often, that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep.

On awaking, he found himself on the green knoll from whence he had first seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes—it was a bright sunny morning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and the eagle was wheeling aloft and breasting the pure mountain breeze. “Surely,” thought Rip, “I have not slept here all night.” He recalled the occurrences before he fell asleep. The strange man with a keg of liquor—the mountain ravine—the wild retreat among the rocks—the woe-begone party at ninepins—the flagon—“Oh! that flagon! that wicked flagon!” thought Rip—“what excuse shall I make to Dame Van Winkle?”


Unlike Rip Van Winkle, I didn't get pissed on a "wicked flagon of liquor" resulting in the deathly slumber of this blog. Not on this occasion anyway. I was either distracted, lazy or couldn't be arsed. Well, just like Rip Van Winkle, it's woken up. And hoping not to slumber for so long.

Wired, ready and posting.