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Mumblety Peg

After half a week away, Jao walked with me up to "his house" in our back yard.  He always hopes that I will have left a ladder standing somewhere, and maybe a hammer.

He looked up.

"Papa", he said--Papa is his name for a grandfather--"how'd ja do that?"

I did not expect a three-year-old to ask:  "How'd ja do that?"  How do you explain a conical roofline to a three-year-old, or a 22.5 degree pitch?  Would a birdsmouth confuse him?

I am used to, "Whatcha doin'?" and "Papa, c'mere!"

But I rose to the occasion.  I mumbled.  Nosy little beggar!

Comments

  1. Conrad, you are such an interesting fellow! I am the dictionary entry for "unhandy". Your structures amaze me. It seems to me you built a functional deck and then just kept seeing new possibilities. Or did you have a master plan? Just wondering.

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  2. What a probing question! I have never had a master plan. A tree blew over. My brother, who owns the property we lease, decided to expand the fenced-in yard space on this one-acre lot. What really happens is that I go to bed, hoping for a snore, and my head wakes me up because it has happened upon something. And because the college I taught for was not famous for over-paying its loyal critics, I had to hone carpentry inclinations to earn extra--or necessary--income during the summers. Anyway, it is satisfying to do something that shows visible results. And--and!--since I am making tracks in the dust, anyway, it is nice to hope that off to the side, here and there, there may be something interesting to remember.

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