[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?"
"Should I buy one of these?"
"How about..?"  She points.
"Can we agree that you and I will disagree about everything today?"

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,
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