“Oh boy!”
Nom! Nom! Nom!
Nom! Nom! Nom!
Nom! Nom! Nom!
We all know how much Andy love, love, loves his Greenies!
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It feels like July is trying to break through when one day this week the high is predicted to be 69º F/ 20,6º C then a few days later it may be 89º F/ 31.7º C. I’m no heat lover, but this year I can survive, thanks to the replacement last year of the two worn-out air conditioners with new ones. At this altitude – 3990 feet/ 1216 meters above sea level – the nights mostly are cool so an open window above the bed can be quite pleasant for man and beast! I keep that in mind in case I decide fresh air trumps cool air-conditioned air.
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The yellow rose has faded largely for this year. That reminds me of a time when I was a high school student, 1966. I was in an advanced English class that got to study the literature and essays of the 19th Century Transcendentalism movement.
Our teacher wanted to give us a practical demonstration of the concept of evanescence, so she brought in a bud vase featuring one rose bud that had one job: during the course of the section of the lesson on evanescence, bloom, then drop its petals. How better to understand Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay on the subject? Unfortunately, her bud failed to bloom, let alone finish the lesson by dropping its petals!
I believe our teacher took that as a failure to teach a lesson, yet half a century-plus later, I understand “evanescence“. Good job, Mrs. Petersen!
(P.S. Mrs. Petersen mentioned her annual listen to J.S. Bach’s “St. Matthew Passion” was how she got into the spirit of Easter. I tried it and understand. For anyone getting goosey because a teacher mentioned a religious work in a public school, Mrs. Petersen also was a member of my church. She mentioned this there. She was a very good and decent person on top of a great teacher, one of many I’ve been blessed with in my life.)
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Then there was the teacher who caused my class to rupture itself trying not to laugh when he transposed the first letters of the Mark Twain classic, “Huckleberry Finn“….
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My mother, who graduated high school in 1932, remembered a typo that caused a hoity-toity girl editor of the school newspaper (“The Spud – Keeps Its Eyes Open for News” [sic!]) extreme embarrassment. In honor of pioneers who’d settled the Nebraska Panhandle 50 years or so earlier, she wrote in an editorial that included this description of the spirit of those pioneers: “shiftless pioneers”.
Well, that’s what she wrote, but what appeared in “The Spud“, which apparently had its eyes closed to typos: “shitless pioneers”!
When I was on “The Spud” staff in 1965-1966, I went to the morgue (Newspaperese “for place where old issues are stored…”) and found the issue with this typo. My mother was proud of me! LOL! We had another guffaw over it.
As they say on newspapers:
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