An English In Kentucky


















April 26th 2010    Tim Candler

    In those plans I make for next year there will be a large red asterisk beside the word impulse.   This year a managing impulse grade for me would be a D minus.  I have again leapt from cliffs anticipating flight and I have fallen upon my chin.

    There I was, wondering at the tardiness of neighbors.  Assuming an idleness on their part while admiring my own halo.  Cynically congratulating the Close Mockingbird on finally accepting a companion.  Denigrating the Kingbird for his late arrival.   All this because I wore short trousers in March without suntan lotion and my knees became bright pink.

    There should have been a red asterisk in my mind when I saw ten Eggplant at the Farm Shop.  I should have curled my lip after the fashion of gnarled old men too long on this earth to be easily enticed by glitter and baubles.

     This week is going to be cold and wet.  It'll probably freeze.   Nor do I see the bright side, because I spotted a Colorado Beetle amongst Potato green, our own Eggplant seeds are suddenly bursting with joy, the Sweet Potato bed has poor drainage, there is something nibbling at Spinach, lettuce needs thinning otherwise sliminess will occur.  And on it goes into a morose perpetuity of D minus, relief from which can only be found through Marmite on buttered bread and empty promises.

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