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December 20th 2009

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    The idea of winter beginning on December the twenty first is often made irritating by those perfectly formed and wide eyed representatives of our species who are apparently confined to well lit and enclosed spaces.

    In my calendar winter begins on a cold day toward the end of November and usually ends as days lengthen sometime at the end of February or early March when Snowdrops and Daffodils demonstrate courage.    

    But probably in January there will be a period of weather that offers sixty degrees Fahrenheit, and this is the temperature that begins to allow paint formulated for plastic to manage those chemical transformations that permit it to bond to plastic surfaces.  

    An over anxious mind might risk the process just as soon as the sun emerges.  And then in July the Parrish Blue mowing machine's plastic bonnet would fail visual and emotional tests as it disperses shards of paint in a manner that would likely be flamboyant.  

    

    

   Meanwhile there is an engine of great value in wintertime that has become temperamental and its parts need to fill that space now occupied by Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine.  So it is necessary to forego those temptations of now, remove the mowing machine from its current location and return it to the barn.

    There is a part of me that wants to leave things just as they are until Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine has his black seat and his bonnet correctly colored.  And there is a part of me that relishes the prospect of returning him to his winter quarters because current belief sees him as quite able to make this jaunty trip through the horsepower of his own engine.

    Tomorrow at 12:47 I will drive Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine from where he is now to the barn.   The superstitious might call this an offering to the Winter Solstice of 2009.  But I will say nothing in case there is some other part of Maxfield Parrish's engine that chooses to sulk.

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tim candler

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