Clementines… Oh my darlings, oh my darlings…aren’t you a fun find? Apparently not lost and gone forever. (As I might have expected when I left the States.)
Levers, ropes, and pulleys… In the absence of cranes, you are a common scene at the construction sites around my neighborhood. I must admit I quite enjoy watching you at work. Yes, your creakiness is a bit grating on the ears, but I’ll let it slide. Only a figure of speech, of course.
Irish music... Such a spell you can cast! If I just close my eyes, I can picture as much green and open space as my heart could wish for…
Gecko… Between the two of us, we’re actually making a dent in the cockroach population (at least, that’s what my optimism tells me). You eat, I squash. Together we forge ahead in the battle against those vile creatures. For-ward, march!
Eggplant… You were bitter. That’s not nice. If I wanted bitter, I’d suck on a black tea bag. No, I wouldn’t. I don’t like bitter; that’s exactly my point.
BBC radio… Thank you for educating me on the subject of facial recognition software, background-noise-cancelling hearing aids, and other such technological wonders. I learned a lot in half an hour. Useless information to me, I’m sure, but fascinating nonetheless.
Butternut squash… I would like you for no other reason than the fact that you’re a trace of Fall in a Fall-less land. But you’re also oh-so-delicious roasted. With butter. And a touch of brown sugar and cinnamon. Mmm…
Crickets & Co… Thank you, thank you, thank you for your evening serenades. They are familiar, calming…normal.
Sir Andrew… I think you just might be the funniest children’s book I’ve seen, at least in a while. You had me stifling giggles during several days of French lessons. But you were also educational. We learned words like well-dressed, vain, concentrate, image/reflection, ambulance, stretcher, cast, crutch… Yes, pride goes before a fall – and sometimes it’s a literal one.
Piano Guys… Someone mentioned a certain song in passing the other day, and now I have your version playing on repeat. In my head.
Wireless provider billboard… Western marketing has reached out its all-pervasive talons. Right in the middle of your slogan – which is in French, of course – is a very American phrase: Le must have de l’année. (The must have of the year.) Oh me, oh my…
Cool(er) season… You really do exist! And you’re slowly starting to make your presence known. Hurrah!
Garbage trucks… I don’t like you. Not only do you reek, you are dreadfully noisy. On trash days, you drive through the neighborhood blasting your horn like it’s goin’ out of style. Okay, I know you’re just letting everyone know they need to bring their garbage out. But still, it’s not one of your most endearing qualities. Come to think of it, I don’t think you have any endearing qualities. (Side note: I used to dislike running on Thursday mornings back home, because that’s when the garbage trucks came. Phew!)
Menu plan… We’ll see if you can solve the “what’s-for-dinner” dilemma I often have. I mean, you will solve the dilemma, if I can manage to stick to you. Whether I can/do is another story.
Roadside nurseries… I pass you every day and eye the plants, trying to decide what kind I’d like when I eventually get around to shopping for a couple for my apartment. I don’t suppose you’d consider carting the whole lot to my place, would you (a la Algernon DeGrasse)?
Cherry preserves… You make a splendid addition to plain yogurt, especially when the result is popped in the freezer for twenty minutes or so. Much better than ice cream! (Although that doesn’t say much, since I’m not a fan of ice cream to begin with.)
Neighbors who create a chorus of pounding around mealtimes… Either you have a lot of recipes calling for mortar and pestle, or your children are protesting because they don’t like the menu. Hmm. I’m going to guess it’s probably more along the lines of the former than the latter.
Evangelists in Chains… You sit there on my shelf, calling my name. I will read you again someday, I promise. I’m just afraid to start when I have plenty of other demands on my time. I could find myself unable to resist reading you cover-to-cover every. single. day. It’s happened before…
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