(oops, forgot to say this was posted by qB)
“Light and shade” is what he said he wanted. “He” being the host-with-the-most guest-bloggers. Which means that I’m the shade. I know quite a bit about shade. Useful in the summer when bright light and heat demand momentary relief, but the prelude to exposure in the autumn months. In the winter in southern Africa people die in the shade who would have lived had they been lying in the sunshine. So I’m good on shade. In fact I’m good on Stygian darkness too. I’m recovering from a bout of disaster-induced darkness which not even happy-pills to the max could dispel. Which is why I’m a bit of a late starter on this guest-blogging trip. I’ve been in bed for a few days.
I’m sure you’ve been treated to lots of light – Lyle I reckon is like those mega-rockets which go “screeeeeeeech….. BANG” (he has no children to get scared); Mr D is one of those mortar-shaped ones which hiss and sparkle a rainbow fountain of different shades whilst occasionally shooting up fireballs which go “bang”; while Mr SAAP is likely a mixed box with a lot of sparklers for waving round, drawing pictures and words in the air, and sniffing (why do they smell so good? or is it just me?) So obviously they need a bit of shade to show them up to best advantage. No good having fireworks on midsummer’s day. Together we shall look like this, as long as you click manically to the max.
He also (the h-w-t-m guest-bloggers) used the word “erudite” in his introduction. I looked it up. It means, apparently, “well-educated or well-read, learned”. So I’m little miss smarty pants, am I? I just wish to state that I am far from little, I am not a young woman or girl and my pants are antique over-washed-baggy M&S. I notice in my dictionary the words preceding “erudite” are “ersatz”, “error”, “erroneous”, “erratum”, “erratic” and “errant”. Maybe he just got the wrong one by mistake. (I am umbilically attached to my dictionary because my spelling is so bad.)
Well, now that we’ve got all that sorted out, I thought I’d turn to the issue of issue. Ankle-biters, rug-rats, demon spawn or however you care to refer to the juvenile of the species. Since it’s three to one of issued to issueless. I don’t mention my little bees very often over at my place because, well frankly, I find the subject of limited interest beyond close friends and family. And I’m generally totally uninterested in the spawn of others beyond that circle. And I’m only interested on the family spawn in the way that certain medical textbooks with lavish illustrations of disfiguring diseases are interesting. But there are aspects of the condition of having issue that bear discussion (geddit? this is a symptom of the condition too). If only to serve as a warning.
Take, for instance, this:
Here we have two bears. They are twins. Both aged three. Identical at birth. One has been in close contact with b2 (aged four). The other has led a child-free life based in the back of the wardrobe, waiting on the substitute’s bench in case of death, dissolution or disappearance of the main player. Can you tell which is which?
On the left we have a vibrant, fluffy, sleek-coated, devil-may-care, buoyant bear-about-town. On the right we have a shrivelled, shrunken, snot-n-food encrusted, staring-coated, slack-stuffinged, sack-stomached excuse for a bear.
Worked it out yet?
I’m not drawing any great conclusions here. I’m just, um, displaying the evidence. Nature versus nurture.