Had got up at our usual time, gone through our chores and Lekha was well in time, though I was a trifle late.
Preetha's medical review went off okay. The scan revealed inflammation of her damaged kidney and she was given an injection along with antibiotics with the advice that she should visit him a fortnight later. When asked as to whether she had the doctor's clearance to work, her answer was typical of her personality and positive outlook towards life viz.:-
(a) "The work, here, is simple and never, ever heavy".
(b) "I enjoy every bit of my stay here".
Both Lekha and I took a mental note to ensure that the work never gets to be taxing. I can never forget her magnanimity of coming on Sundays, too, till I was up and about - in the complete sense - from the jaundice!
The lunch was scrumptious and I ate myself silly!
The proprietor of the hardware shop from where I'd picked up stuff for the renovation work of our kitchen, had sent Ajo and his auto rickshaw fitted with a carrier, to pick up the two spare polyvinyl coated plywood sheets after paying me its costs. The courtyard has, thus, been spared of the additional adjuncts that were cluttering the area all these days! There are a few more usable, smaller pieces that I've told the head carpenter to collect and cart them away.
The sight of the spare sheets were beginning to get on my nerves as I hate things to linger. Once a work was accomplished, there's no reason as to why everything connected with it is squared up without trace! Only then does the entire work is deemed to have been completed and gives me satisfaction!!
Mini has, finally, got her bookings by train on 29 Jan to attend Vichani kunjamma's '13th day ceremony on 01 Feb. Will have to see as to how I can send Lekha for it.
Tailpiece.
A humorous poem.
We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never
be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest
full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?
Then one may be that, and three would be those
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!
Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England.
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing
rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can
make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them,
what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't
preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what
does a humanitarian eat?
In what other language do people
recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat
chance be the same,
While a wise man and wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique
lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it
burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it
out,
And in which an alarm goes off by
going on.
And in closing, if Father is Pop, how
come Mother's not Mop?
And if people from Poland are called Poles
Then people from Holland should be Holes
And the Germans, Germs.
And let's not forget the Americans,
who changed s to z, but that's
another story which will be told by
the joker in the pack, the Trump card.
Preetha's medical review went off okay. The scan revealed inflammation of her damaged kidney and she was given an injection along with antibiotics with the advice that she should visit him a fortnight later. When asked as to whether she had the doctor's clearance to work, her answer was typical of her personality and positive outlook towards life viz.:-
(a) "The work, here, is simple and never, ever heavy".
(b) "I enjoy every bit of my stay here".
Both Lekha and I took a mental note to ensure that the work never gets to be taxing. I can never forget her magnanimity of coming on Sundays, too, till I was up and about - in the complete sense - from the jaundice!
The lunch was scrumptious and I ate myself silly!
The proprietor of the hardware shop from where I'd picked up stuff for the renovation work of our kitchen, had sent Ajo and his auto rickshaw fitted with a carrier, to pick up the two spare polyvinyl coated plywood sheets after paying me its costs. The courtyard has, thus, been spared of the additional adjuncts that were cluttering the area all these days! There are a few more usable, smaller pieces that I've told the head carpenter to collect and cart them away.
The sight of the spare sheets were beginning to get on my nerves as I hate things to linger. Once a work was accomplished, there's no reason as to why everything connected with it is squared up without trace! Only then does the entire work is deemed to have been completed and gives me satisfaction!!
Mini has, finally, got her bookings by train on 29 Jan to attend Vichani kunjamma's '13th day ceremony on 01 Feb. Will have to see as to how I can send Lekha for it.
Tailpiece.
A humorous poem.
We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never
be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest
full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?
Then one may be that, and three would be those
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!
Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England.
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing
rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can
make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them,
what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't
preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what
does a humanitarian eat?
In what other language do people
recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat
chance be the same,
While a wise man and wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique
lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it
burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it
out,
And in which an alarm goes off by
going on.
And in closing, if Father is Pop, how
come Mother's not Mop?
And if people from Poland are called Poles
Then people from Holland should be Holes
And the Germans, Germs.
And let's not forget the Americans,
who changed s to z, but that's
another story which will be told by
the joker in the pack, the Trump card.
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