I was afraid to open this, not knowing what kind of google ads the title might elicit.
That feral wrecking yard looks like the view from my room's porch/outdoor lounge/seagrape arbor. Junkyard ambiance is the same all over the world, good to know...
Bonjour Louis and our other French Bro's, Balsa et al...forgeeeeve moi ignoronce! S'il vous plait.
And Mike, yep, I had flashbacks to the Stephen King film "Christine" where the auto junkyard proprietor says in ominous tones:- "Don't know why you want that car (container) son, it's the Ace of Spades..."
hey josh
that is cool, now you can practise your french with an ozzy and try it on the french women one day!
oh la la!
cool to have another shaper in your box to share experiences and thoughts. i always get more excited about shaping talking Mook [swayer] than to myself.
The legend that gave its name to the “Chambre d’amour” in Anglet, France, goes as follows:
A rich young heiress once fell in love with a very poor young man. They would secretly meet in a cave right at the bottom of the cliff, that was only accessible at low tide, One sad day, while they were so much busy kissing each other (and, er…, maybe doing more -this is not clear in the legend-), they didn’t notice the tide coming in and both were drowned, everlastingly united in death… Sigh… Sad, sad story, and a great moral here: young heiresses, don’t go fooling around with tramps or you know what might happen to you…
Well, Speedneedle, we are all crossing our fingers for a young rich heiress to drop by your shaping room and we hope no tsunami happens then…
The cave that became known as the “Chambre d’amour”: