About Me
I'm a Melbourne boy, hailing from St Kilda with one ex, one current wife and four kids. Love the outdoors and making new discoveries. I cook a lot at home (cheers from wife) and do some preserving, mostly jams, pickles and fruit liqueurs. This is the diary of a cooking journey.

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Friday, September 22, 2006
A Cool Drink
My daughter P forwarded this to me.

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them. After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he was close enough, he called out,

"Excuse me, where are we?"

"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.

"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up."

The man gestured, and the gate began to open. "Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog. After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.

"Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."

"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.

"There should be a bowl by the pump."

They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, and then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.

"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.

"This is Heaven," he answered.

"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."

"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell."

"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"

"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."

Soooo...Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without
writing a word. Maybe this will explain. When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do? You forward jokes. When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward jokes. When you have something to say, but don't know what, and don't know how, you forward jokes. Also to let you know that you are still remembered, you are still important, you are still loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get? A forwarded joke. So, next time if you get a joke, don't think that you've been sent just another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and your friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile. You are welcome @ my water bowl anytime.


I love you too, P.
 
  posted at 8:33 am
  5 comments



5 Comments:
At 10:23 am, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Lovely story, Neil.

My daughter forwarded me a petition to save a place in South America from gold mining.

 
At 2:03 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you'll allow me to be the grouchy cynic, being copied out of an address book along with dozens of others into a carbon copy field hardly makes me feel remembered or important.

If you are too busy to make a small amount of time available to keep in touch with a friend then the friendship is not all that important to you. I'll take a short email asking how I'm doing over any number of forwarded jokes any time thanks.

 
At 2:39 pm, Blogger neil said...

Hi kitchen hand, yeah, it was a nice story, especially to a dog rescuer such as yourself. I bet a few greyhounds would do anything for that bowl of water.

Hi cam, grouchy cynic allowed. I assume your only talking about the second part, which I nearly deleted 'cause the first part was so nice. The reason I didn't was that it was poignant to me, for I have three other kids that for the most part didn't grow up with me. As the years have gone by contact with my two boys has lessened to the point where I would be happy if they forwarded to me, which is what I was talking to my daughter about yesterday. I do take your point though, much better a phone call or personal email, but it's also nice to know you are in the loop.

 
At 3:32 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Neil,

Just in regards to the second part (and my comments were intended to be more in regards to friends rather than family), although I wasn't sure if it was meant to somehow tie back into the first part of the story apart from the closing line.

 
At 9:13 am, Blogger neil said...

Hi cam, no problem. You were very clear about what you meant and I think it's a valid point, we should be calling our friends and family to keep in touch, that's exactly what I tell the boys.

Hi paz, wasn't it just!

 

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