Away from the rat race for a change

Lying in the grass today on an Austrian Hillside many kilometers away from traffic or noise and life seems barable again and I held my Glass of Vodka and Triple Sec high up to the sun and wished the world a toast of keep on keeping on. I have gone solo today since Alfonse has gone into a local town to buy shoes and I have had enough of humans anyway - so I have been walking quite intrepidly and I have seem a few of these bizarre Nordic Walkers with their ski poles but no skis - better than walking sticks for some I suppose but then again a mighty stout but slightly gnarled and varnished walking stick must win hands down in the Ski stick, walking stick competitions that go on somewhere in this known universe or beyond. So I have actually slept quite a bit, on perfumed meadow grass, and smoked these fine Bensons, drunk champagne and vodka and Triple Sec, and stuck a natural nasal spray up both nostrils to stop congestion and bad breath. I do not want to risk making a young woman's stomach turn when I try to get near if I can help it. and there is no sign of romance. The hotel s full of people on some kind of bloody mission to be fitter than me and fitter than most of the people around the same age and younger than themselves within reason. But sometimes that reason goes right out of the window and I am left to pick up the pieces, like this morning when a jogger bumped into the breakfast trolley sending crissants flying and the odd spec of coffee landed on my new green trousers.