Random English Speak
Spring is in the air and all is right in some parts of the world. Maybe a county or two over. From where I sit, all is fine, but not right. In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced everything being right. Not even while being anesthetized.
Yesterday morning, I saw my first lovebug of the season. I was sitting on the carport reading, drinking my coffee, feeling the wind gusts, occasionally blowing my nose, scratching my right arm… You know, the usual?
Right in mid-scratch, a lone lovebug landed on my scratcher-arm. That’d be my left during a right arm itch. It was smaller than usual… the bug. Had it been mature it would’ve had a help mate. I pick up on stuff like that.
Usually a bug has to bite me, sting me, fly up my nose or nest in my ear before I’ll get audibly demonstrative. But the sight of the first lovebug caused me to swear like a Brit. – “You cheeky tosser!” -- I’ve been relearning English by watching PBS. I don’t know what the words mean, but I like the delivery.
So, we’ll have bug-coated windshields and caked-on side mirrors in the not too distant future. But, Bob’s your uncle. That’s all in the future. Right now, my windshield has just the normal layer of bird defecation and dirt on it.
The part of spring I generally enjoy are the sounds; they have such potential for instilling peace and calm. This morning I was reading indoors in Kay’s “Woman Cave.” I don’t have a cave. I have a study, but the light is better for reading in Kay’s cave room. On this occasion, it was difficult to concentrate because of the noise from a distant cement truck, leaf grinder, tornado simulator… Something really loud. Loud and constant.
Our new windows are great at blocking most outdoor noises. If you’re willing to pay every cent of your life-savings, you can get some good windows. And, they’ll install ‘em for you. For free! Which is a good thing, because, like I said, you’ve spent your last penny on ‘em. You’re centless.
Did you know that I can wash the outside of my windows from the inside? I don’t remember how, but I know it can be done. The installer demonstrated it. The demonstration lasted as long as it takes a cat to placidly stare at a dangling piece of yarn. Not to worry, I don’t care to clean windows. It’s enough to know that the job can be done from the inside.
Of course, that has nothing to do with the machine sound coming through the soundproof windows in the Woman Cave. It got so bad that I decided to give up on reading, and go out and help Kay start the mower. I came up with that idea right after Kay entered her domicile and said, “I’m going to mow the lawn.” Anyone familiar with Kay’s voice tones would pick up on the fact that her comment was more of a request. In essence she said, “How about getting off your bum and helping me start the sod plucker!” Kay, too, watches a lot of PBS.
You wanna know what’s crazy? Here’s what’s crazy. Kay started the mower all by herself last time. Mowed half the yard. The mower ran perfectly. Kay and I did the dance of joy. However, this time, Kay yanked at the cord and it came out about six inches and then stopped with a “clank!”
I eased Kay to the side and said something like, “Let me show you how it’s done.” – “Yank! Clank!” -- I got a better grip and tried again. – “Yank! Whomp, clank!” That sound is never good. Begs the question – What would make a lawnmower develop massive metal lockage when not in use for two weeks?
Begs a second question – Do I spend from $150 to $350 to fix a five-year-old, $400 lawnmower; or do I give it to our good friend Ed? – Kay answered the question for me. -- “I’ve been after you for two years to get rid of this thing. I’m calling Ed!”
The way I see it, for one beautiful day in March, we did not pollute the neighborhood with the noise of our lawnmower. Fortunately, tomorrow there will be some serious noise. Kay called Terry, the neighborhood yard mower person, and she’s coming over to mow and weed-eat.
Which begs a third question. – Do I invest in a $400 lawnmower that I may have to keep starting for Kay until my arm heals (very last time I’m mentioning the bum arm) or do I pay $400 to have the yard mowed and weed-ate eight times? In which case, I won’t have to store, maintain, start or even follow my self-owned mower.
Life? It’s full of mystery and “what ifs” and “should haves.” Occasionally something is going get you completely knackered. But, always remember this -- In time, you’ll be able to say “Bob’s my uncle.” -- Next time.
end
mark@rooftopwriter.com
Spring is in the air and all is right in some parts of the world. Maybe a county or two over. From where I sit, all is fine, but not right. In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced everything being right. Not even while being anesthetized.
Yesterday morning, I saw my first lovebug of the season. I was sitting on the carport reading, drinking my coffee, feeling the wind gusts, occasionally blowing my nose, scratching my right arm… You know, the usual?
Right in mid-scratch, a lone lovebug landed on my scratcher-arm. That’d be my left during a right arm itch. It was smaller than usual… the bug. Had it been mature it would’ve had a help mate. I pick up on stuff like that.
Usually a bug has to bite me, sting me, fly up my nose or nest in my ear before I’ll get audibly demonstrative. But the sight of the first lovebug caused me to swear like a Brit. – “You cheeky tosser!” -- I’ve been relearning English by watching PBS. I don’t know what the words mean, but I like the delivery.
So, we’ll have bug-coated windshields and caked-on side mirrors in the not too distant future. But, Bob’s your uncle. That’s all in the future. Right now, my windshield has just the normal layer of bird defecation and dirt on it.
The part of spring I generally enjoy are the sounds; they have such potential for instilling peace and calm. This morning I was reading indoors in Kay’s “Woman Cave.” I don’t have a cave. I have a study, but the light is better for reading in Kay’s cave room. On this occasion, it was difficult to concentrate because of the noise from a distant cement truck, leaf grinder, tornado simulator… Something really loud. Loud and constant.
Our new windows are great at blocking most outdoor noises. If you’re willing to pay every cent of your life-savings, you can get some good windows. And, they’ll install ‘em for you. For free! Which is a good thing, because, like I said, you’ve spent your last penny on ‘em. You’re centless.
Did you know that I can wash the outside of my windows from the inside? I don’t remember how, but I know it can be done. The installer demonstrated it. The demonstration lasted as long as it takes a cat to placidly stare at a dangling piece of yarn. Not to worry, I don’t care to clean windows. It’s enough to know that the job can be done from the inside.
Of course, that has nothing to do with the machine sound coming through the soundproof windows in the Woman Cave. It got so bad that I decided to give up on reading, and go out and help Kay start the mower. I came up with that idea right after Kay entered her domicile and said, “I’m going to mow the lawn.” Anyone familiar with Kay’s voice tones would pick up on the fact that her comment was more of a request. In essence she said, “How about getting off your bum and helping me start the sod plucker!” Kay, too, watches a lot of PBS.
You wanna know what’s crazy? Here’s what’s crazy. Kay started the mower all by herself last time. Mowed half the yard. The mower ran perfectly. Kay and I did the dance of joy. However, this time, Kay yanked at the cord and it came out about six inches and then stopped with a “clank!”
I eased Kay to the side and said something like, “Let me show you how it’s done.” – “Yank! Clank!” -- I got a better grip and tried again. – “Yank! Whomp, clank!” That sound is never good. Begs the question – What would make a lawnmower develop massive metal lockage when not in use for two weeks?
Begs a second question – Do I spend from $150 to $350 to fix a five-year-old, $400 lawnmower; or do I give it to our good friend Ed? – Kay answered the question for me. -- “I’ve been after you for two years to get rid of this thing. I’m calling Ed!”
The way I see it, for one beautiful day in March, we did not pollute the neighborhood with the noise of our lawnmower. Fortunately, tomorrow there will be some serious noise. Kay called Terry, the neighborhood yard mower person, and she’s coming over to mow and weed-eat.
Which begs a third question. – Do I invest in a $400 lawnmower that I may have to keep starting for Kay until my arm heals (very last time I’m mentioning the bum arm) or do I pay $400 to have the yard mowed and weed-ate eight times? In which case, I won’t have to store, maintain, start or even follow my self-owned mower.
Life? It’s full of mystery and “what ifs” and “should haves.” Occasionally something is going get you completely knackered. But, always remember this -- In time, you’ll be able to say “Bob’s my uncle.” -- Next time.
end
mark@rooftopwriter.com
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