In the genes I have found those qualities which
produce a body which when now exposed to sun takes on the appearance of
what I will call 'red blotchiness'. It is a most unappetizing
vision and all I can say is that many years ago sun produced healthier
shades in me.
'Red blotchiness' in skin excites those
parts of the medical profession who earn their living in the field of
dermatology. It is I suppose that same triumphal sound dentists hear
when a person announces a toothache. A delightful opportunity for
the application of precisely engineered devices and dubious wisdom.
For many a gardener, that same sound may be a potato rain in spring, or a
thunderstorm in summer, or an agricultural equipment show in
Louisville. For me, and I have to admit it, that same sound is more
soothing when I know I have ground to dig. So I wonder at the
relationship between 'red blotchiness' and the feel of a moving shovel.
I have used a long handled round point
shovel in the Sinai. I have used it on summer beaches. I have
used it in Caribbean Islands. I have even used it to move coal and
gravel. I have double trenched in that earnest way for those who paid
me, and who were watching. And here in the USA where often the
sun is strong I have used the long handle round point shovel sometimes for
the joy of it.
In that same time I have learned to wear
socks in the winter, I have learned to wear a hat in the summer, and I
have learned to wear a long sleeved shirt both winter and
It is true, I can feel the ancestors
sniggering as they peer at me from those places where they may still have
their being. But when they see gloves on a hot sunny day I imagine
it'll be their time to gather children for a demonstration of that
consequence to not dying young or with courage.
I see this as an opportunity for me to
show off a little. Teach those little urchins a lesson by wearing the
sort of gloves Fagin apparently used to wear.