Posted tagged ‘good egg’

“But the adjectives change,” said Jimmy. “Nothing’s worse than last year’s adjectives.”

February 20, 2016

Gracie and I did some sightseeing yesterday. It was mostly to get us out of the house. We didn’t see much. I had brought my camera but didn’t use it. We made a few stops. One was at a candy store where I bought salt water taffy and a caramel, a soft outer layer caramel with a white center much like marshmallow but tastier. I then went to buy the bread I had forgotten on my last trip. Before I went into the store, I hid the candy inside a bag inside another bag. Gracie hadn’t ever touched stuff in my car, but I was being cautious. When I came out of the store, I opened the passenger side so I could put my groceries there. I noticed ripped pieces of paper all over the front seat and the visor was down. The paper came from the candy bag. I checked and found out Gracie had helped herself to a caramel. She must have eaten the paper as well. Nothing else was touched. I think the visor was her attempt to hide her activities. We then had a conversation, “Gracie, what did you do?” No answer. “Gracie, did you eat the candy?” No answer. She didn’t even look guilty let alone contrite. I was just glad it wasn’t chocolate.

The day is cold, windy and grey, uninviting in every way.

I never really concerned myself with the weather when I was a kid. I didn’t even have colorful, descriptive words. I went with sunny or cloudy, hot or cold and rainy or snowy. Every day fit one of those descriptions, meager as they are. I actually used nice to describe a warm spring day. I hate the word nice in the same way I hate good and bad. They say nothing: nice day, good movie, bad day and nice dress or shoes. I described food as good or bad tasting. My father described some people as good eggs. I knew what he meant, but I had no idea how he got there.

People don’t want a long winded description of a movie or a TV show. My sister used to say you didn’t have to watch the show, just ask Kat. Sometimes that was a compliment and sometimes it wasn’t. In my mind I usually put it on the compliment side of the ledger. Using DVR (or taping as some of my friends still call it) and On Demand have made me obsolete. I was great for the highlights.

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language And next year’s words await another voice.”

November 15, 2015

Ditto on yesterday morning’s weather, but it’s a bit colder than it was. TV was so bad last night I don’t even remember what I watched. Mostly it was just background noise so I managed to go through and toss away several catalogues and magazines. I even found a couple of gifts for people and a couple of recipes for me.

Yesterday my sister and I were talking and all of a sudden my mother entered the conversation, sort of. I mentioned someone I knew had a tough row to hoe. My mother used to say that, and it sort of just flew unbidden out of my mouth as I haven’t heard it in years. I didn’t understand it when I was really little and later I couldn’t figure out how a farm metaphor became part of my mother’s lexicon. Both my parents had favorite sayings. My dad called someone a good egg, and that was a high compliment indeed. I always understood it, but in Ghana I found out exactly what it meant. When aunties (women sellers) came to my house with eggs to sell, I bought only those eggs which fell to the bottom of my bucket of water. They were the good eggs. Dressed to the nines always threw me, but I finally figured out from the conversation what my mother meant. I did wonder why dressed to the nines, not the tens or the fives. I didn’t find what that one meant until not that long ago. It seems the very best suits used a full nine yards of fabric. The kiss of death was one of my mother’s. I thought it meant Judas at the Last Supper, but the Mafia co-opted it to mean giving a kiss to someone marked for death prior to his execution.

I suspect there are many expressions my grandparents used which may still be around though their meanings have probably disappeared. Some of ours will have the same fate. I doubt my grandnephew will know why we tell him to roll down the window or hang up the phone. I wonder if he knows clockwise. His watch has no hands.

Right now I’m going to turn on the TV.

“It is a cliche that most cliches are true, but then like most cliches, that cliche is untrue.”

August 17, 2015

Mr. Arbuthnot, an expert weatherman, was interviewed by the Sun Chronicle. His weather report is as follows: “It may become “steamy,” “sultry” and even “stifling,” but never “hot.” The temperature will soar, of course. It will set records. it will be a record-breaking heat wave. The average person will swelter, of course. Hence the phrase “sweltering temperatures.” They will also roast, broil, fry and steam. They may also sweat it out, but not in polite company. These people will seek relief by flocking, en masse to the beach, to the lakeside or to neighborhood pools. The roads to these places will be jammed, moving at a crawl and populated by exasperated motorists. For those who can’t escape, they will beat the heat by not going outside which will cause utilities to be strained, overloaded and working to capacity. This will cause scattered outages, perhaps, or possibly rolling blackouts.The heat wave will finally break thanks to pop-up thunderstorms and scattered thunder showers. Mr Arbuthnot’s final words to his audience, ‘It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity.'”

I figure you’ve guessed today is cliché day which reminds me of the best principal I ever worked with. His only imperfection was his reliance on clichés. I used to keep count whenever he spoke to the staff and sometimes he reached double digits. My mother always used to say someone had a tough row to hoe. When I was young, I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would anyone hoe a row? He’s a good egg was one my father often used. I knew my dad was complimenting whomever, but why a good egg was what I wondered. When I cracked open my first bad egg in Ghana, I totally understood. What I don’t get still though is why the farm metaphors.

Animals seem to be cliché targets. I’m guessing it is because they can’t complain. Somebody works like a dog, goes on wild goose chases, plays when the cat’s away, does something whole hog, waits until the cows come home, is stubborn as a mule and strong as an ox. My favorite is the straw which broke the camel’s back.

I slept like a log last night after burning the midnight oil. I woke up fresh as a daisy and happy as a clam. With the AC on, I am in the lap of luxury; however, today I turned older than dirt!