of my hand holding one of those round things that get filled with soap and put in washing machines.The photo is courtesy of a dinky little canon IXUS 60 that I bought because my darling Nikon is too large and valuable to leave in the car.
I recently discussed with Annie Slaminsky my need to name things. It must be a blokey thing because women seem impervious, plus I've absolutely no idea what most of these actual names mean. For instance what is IXUS, hmmm? Or for that matter the 60 it is meant to be a model of? And though I try really hard to keep abreast of names and meanings, pourqoi?
I experience the naming thing in DIY shops too. For me, 4" dowelling is not a good enough description, oh no, I must know the wood type, sap quotient, run of the grain, country of origin, season of felling, was the feller sleeping with anyone interesting, maybe a cousin, were they church attendees, were they good at school, who sat with them in class, were they good at maths, was there scandal involving the local priest? I'm not speaking embezzlement here. Maybe their father ran off with the local priest? Maybe, OHMIGOD, their father was the priest.
Generally by this stage I find it best to leave the wood section and lie down, maybe on a bed, maybe on a Luxurydown Masterest, with quilted headboard and orthapaedic cushioning, bespoke design, from Somerset, from hamlet, from recent scandal... priest on foot across field... dogs... arrests... brother of Chief Constable... cover up... hush hush... medal from Pope...
Bollocks! I'm not resting on a bed steeped in scandal.
I shall sit instead in a darkened room. Let me adjust the blinds... what's this? By Lust Bros of Darkening Crevice?
Is there no end to the torment...
4 comments:
I got to hand it to you, Dan, you're good at this naming thing. But you forgot to mention the name of your hand. Handsel?
I thought of giving my hand a handy name but decided against. Instead I just call it hand. This way there's no favouritism between left and right because I'd hate to have one hand jealous of the other, I'd hate one hand going behind the other's back, I'd hate a fallout that might lead to the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing, best to keep them as friends... Oh yes.
not resting on a bed steeped in scandal?
oh my. makes for a quiet life, doesn't it.
Hayden,
My old grandmother used to say never go to bed with guilt, never lie in shame, never cover yourself with embarassment, never rest in gloom, never stumble on the path to true light, never pick two consecutive lottery number and always be kind to the dog, whether you own one or not.
Was never sure what she meant by that just knew when such wisdoms began to utter forth they were generally symptoms that the medication was wearing off.
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