On Apr 3, 2011, at 12:32 PM, David Ritchie wrote: > > > With their well-trained gazes and techniques, it in the lives of others that > scholars usually discover madness and superstition. > > At the burrito stand close by work, those who wait in line are invited to > shake up a tube of Chinese fortune sticks. The notion is that if one stick > sticks out more than others, that's what lolly stick wood gods (or whatever) > have in store for you. Several weeks back, the lady who spoons guacamole and > beans and rice (chicken for the heathens) invited me to try. Not wanting to > appear rude, I did. "Something bad is about to come your way," was what I > pulled. "No problem," I quipped, "it's already happened; our furnace broke > this morning. I'll get someone to fix it." She offered me sweet chilli. > > Weeks later, in time for Spring's warmth, and April fools, we now have heat. > I imagined we were safely beyond that particular stick's reach. A colleague > at work recommended a dessert beer. I have taken all kinds of flak from > friends for suggesting that there is such a thing as dessert beer. What I'm > talking about are dark Belgian beers, old and approaching the alcoholic > content of wines. You have a sip or two at the end of a meal and it's like > port: a smooth, short, final swig. My colleague's recommendation, however, > was quite different, a large bottle of stout which when opened revealed a > nose and flavor tones of creme caramel. The first few sniffs and tastes were > truly extraordinary. How can this be? And then the flavors registered; > about as tasty as instant eggs on a polystyrene plate. Promise turned to > horror. > > For reasons too complicated to explain, this week we thought we might move > the our antique hot tub--twenty five years old and still running--about six > feet to the south. Absent my mighty friend who chucks telephone poles about > and stones and all that his Mormonism allows, while wearing a kilt... absent > his help, Gardening Guy and I felt we didn't have a quorum for the full task. > So we did a trial lift, aimed at discovering how the tub was constructed, > and how it would consequently need to be supported in its new location. > Concluding that it was a little on the heavy side, we let it down. My big > toe was a slow to retreat. Thanks to a good, thick, Wellie and a sufficiency > of instinct... not even a bruised toenail. > > "Ha!" I cried, to that old god of sticks, "See!" > > Hubris. We discovered that a rat had decided in the cold of winter to move > into the tub's heating compartment. Much bleach and hosing, but then I was > sure we'd finally moved beyond the lolly god (or gods') reach. > > Gardening Guy bonked his head on a beam. Bled like someone who takes aspirin > to prevent strokes. (This is He who lifts two hundred pound rocks all day > long and then goes off to play soccer.) > > Ice, water, and a sticking plaster fixed this. I gave up all responses, > silent or otherwise, to superstition. Got on with the job. > > Notify the Chinese, Hadrian, all future archeologists: our stone wall is > close to done. > > Yeah verily, it is an good wall. Strange, perhaps, in that it has grown > somewhat organically rather than according to sound plan, but it is beautiful > and very strong. I confidently assert that if any enemy, armed with ancient > cannon and the like, tries to sneak up the valley below, approaching from the > south west with the sun at their backs... we'll be ready. > > Or we will once I've primed the Duck Punt gun. > > David Ritchie, > Portland, > Oregon------------------------------------------------------------------ > To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, > digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html