[lit-ideas] Sunday Something
- From: David Ritchie <profdritchie@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sun, 11 May 2014 11:53:00 -0700
This week officials have been looking for Cougar pooh hereabouts. Beside the
elementary school on the road we live on, there were two "unconfirmed"
sightings of a Cougar. I considered how attractive a flock of free-range
chickens would be to a hungry cat.
Appenzeller's brooding continues. One evening I went to close up and found
Mimo either charitably warming her brooding fellow flock member or somewhat
confused about the concept of a "sleepover." When I went to lock the door, in
the pitch dark, I shone the flashlight briefly upward, "One, two, three,
four...what on earth?" I checked Appenzeller. There, squishing her, was
Captain Mimo. The following morning Mimo was the first one out. Appenzeller
didn't move. I lifted her inside the egg-laying box and laid both box and
chicken gently on the ground. "That's funny," she said, "I've not known beds
to fly before. Maybe I should go for a walk to digest the experience?
Consider its possible theological implications?" I assured her these were good
ideas. She left behind a crushed egg.
The sure sign that I am sole charge of the chickens again are slip on shoes. I
like sturdy lace-ups, but when you have to get wellies on several times a day,
well, as my father says, the ground is further away than it used to be.
Outside nowadays it's important either to watch where you step or wear wellies
and remove them at the door. We keep shovels like sand buckets in commercial
buildings, back in the day, one here, one there, for swift access. Whenever
I'm out for a break from the computer screen--they say it's important to rest
your eyes from time to time when doing extended editing--I'm usually to be
found moving pooh from here to somewhere more utilitarian, bearing in mind
always that in garden terms it's hot stuff. On account of the nitrogen.
Mother in Costco, to small child, "Do you like this?"
"No."
"Should I buy one of these?"
"No."
"How about..?" She points.
"No."
"Can we agree that you and I will disagree about everything today?"
"No."
Probably old news to you, but I read this week that the statue of David in
Florence has cracks in the tree trunk. The article blamed tourists and
earthquakes, also the original marble. In its history, David has been moved
inside and attacked by a man with a hammer. A plaster copy was inspected,
detected and rejected by Queen Victoria's retinue. Her handlers thought David
too rude for a royal, so someone added a hooks and an applicable fig leaf.
Though uncircumcised, the piping was deemed unamusing.
David Ritchie,
Portland,
Oregon------------------------------------------------------------------
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