Fortunately I spotted a posse harassing the Hosta blooms in the late afternoon yesterday, and like anyone else who struggles with Juveniliustrochilidaphobia my immediate instinct was to remain indoors for the next couple of weeks, but being a bold and often Bolshevik sort of male of our own species this morning I chose instead to dress accordingly. No white, no red, no blue, nothing flashy, and I wore a brown oil stained trousers to protect my peaky white blotchy legs. Luckily the morning was cloudy with showers which is not an ideal condition for the boisterous and out of control, murderous little vandals that pass for the youth of Hummingbird, but unluckily it did mean I was reduced to wrenching some sort of order back into the barn and this meant enduring the ordeal of sharing time with my least favorite member of the Angelic Host, who for some unknown reason decided to remain in residence here rather than get the first bus to Washington DC, he'd be a shoe-in for the current administration.
At issue between us today was the mechanism for a Nodding Donkey, two ancient
rototillers, a wheel barrow wheel and a gas furnace with an air conditioner unit
which would have been run by a compressor in a heat pump..... I finally came out
said "What are these things doing in the barn?" But it's always the same with
the Angel of Greed, he declares himself entirely innocent and blames me. "They
didn't cost you anything and you never know they could be useful for something."
And it's that sort of temptation that often makes me wonder whether the Angel of
Greed is one of those fallen Angels who just gloms off others. Then in a
somewhat sneering manner he said, "There was a time when you had no problem
lifting the Nodding Donkey." "That's exactly my point," I shot back. "It's time
to get rid of almost everything in the barn." And we both agreed that I'm
looking at some kind of winter project, certainly not something any one in their
right mind would even think about doing until something like January, maybe