| March
6th 2009
All of a sudden it is warm enough for
insect life. A little fly in the potato bed and a spider pottering
around. The worms are slow and while digging I probably decimated
their population. But no sleeping toads, which is always a
relief, because sometimes the shovel goes right through one, leaving that
sense of betrayal in a gory wake. Okanya
and I once needed glue. I don't recall why, but it probably had something
to do with an airplane. Paper was one more commodity not easy to wrestle
away from adults. Glue was impossible. |
We had noticed that after a while a squashed fly tended to stick to wherever
it had been squashed. So, we decided, a quantity of them mashed
together might make a good glue. More interesting though was the possibility of
finding an inner-tube, from which to make catapults. But that
required a blade and blades were like inner-tubes, always well guarded.
Okanya's mother used a jembi in her garden.
Like a grubbing hoe
with a short handle. Back then, real men didn't work gardens, nor
were we expected to.
Previous Next |
