[lit-ideas] Fwd: Sunday Twofer

From: David Ritchie <profdritchie@xxxxxxxxx>
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Date: Sun, 28 Apr 2013 13:13:58 -0700
> My proof-reading may be getting worse.  A good friend pointed out the 
> following errors.  My apologies.

David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
> 
>> I also fell for a tiny little thing, younger
>> than the rest, with feathered feet.  We asked whether she would be
>> picked on by the others.  (I almost typed "abused" but that word has
>> been too often used in my view, or hearing).  My student said he
>> thought the chick was big enough to get along.  He was right, the
>> poor little [mite?] t did her best to get food when food was on offer,
>> and [she slowly she the others to the point?] that on a fine sunny day,
>> suddenly "she" began to crow.
> 
> 
>> The littlest among us either had
>> gender issues, or (more likely) sexual ones.  At dawn the following
>> morning the case for maleness became overwhelming.  At that hour I
>> was trying to get back to sleep.  Round and round in my head Bob
>> Dylan's rhymes were jumbling like a washer.  How can you rhyme "dawn"
>> and "gone"?  And then as if he'd heard the racket, off went the
>> rooster, cock-a-bloomin' doodling.  I thought, "God he's gotta go,"
>> which was the deal actually, sale or return, guaranteed.  As is the
>> case with many such statements, in reality the words amounted to less
>> than you might think.  They could have meant, "We will swap a teen
>> for another teen, on account of you having poured so much investment
>> in and the going rate for a most beautiful rooster," but what they
>> really meant was they would refund the price of the chick... if we
>> waited till Saturday when their Rooster Adjuster would be available.
>> We had a family meeting about killing and feathers and such; we
>> thought the coq au vin route and earring feathers could be a better
>> deal, money-wise, and the farmer has ethical duties that a pet owner
>> does not, but eventually we settled upon trusting the placement guy,
>> the adjuster, so we [hied] ourselves to the store on Saturday, only to
>> find he had died.
[lit-ideas] Fwd: Sunday Twofer

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