Tuesday April 16th 2013
Easy enough not to use the back door when there is a
chair that holds magazines in front of it. This chair is
tricky to move without spilling magazines onto the floor, which means
having to bend down to pick stuff up, and which also involves the
inevitable pause to wonder why magazines are stored upon a chair.
But worse, following extravagant seasonal out door excursions,
bending down to do anything has to be negotiated according to a set of
priorities, and picking up magazines is down there with the clean
socks or anything the wind hasn't yet had it's chance to blow away.
And I guess there should be a
chair on the other side of the back door, holding perhaps light bulbs, so
that after a spell in the outdoors there is upon return to the domicile yet
another reason not to use the back door. This way perhaps a person wouldn't
have to use valuable bending down time to pick up unnecessarily.
However the act of picking up magazines from the floor is, in and of itself,
so daunting a prospect that it serves as what some might call an "Aid
Memoire." Which, if you are a smart arse is an irritating way of
saying "A Reminder." But which in the annals of diplomacy is a contribution,
or prelude to negotiation. A sort of list of things to be discussed in
the coming game of chess, rather than a document you signed containing your
terms of surrender to Nesting Carolina Wren, one of which was never to use
the back door until maybe the middle of May, on the off chance a glove box
becomes a primary nesting site.