Double trouble: I’m sorry to subject you to the subject of the english language when you’re probably having a nice soft day. But sometimes I think the word-inventors were verbally insane or just plain lazy. Why else would we have so many words with the same spelling but different pronunciations and meanings? Was the project team simply lacking in brain cells and imagination? Or did they become bored halfway through the job? Perhaps it was an early attempt at recycling to save endangered letters?
These words are called heteronyms. To better explain what I’m on about, there is no time like the present to present you with my story. Happy reading!
Once upon a time, there was a Polish seamstress who liked to stay home and polish her husband’s boots. Okay, so she wasn’t very liberated, but she was working on it. She was a lovely little woman who would shed a tear every time she saw a tear in her man’s work clothes, hanging in the shed. Wasting no time, she would always repair to her sewing room to repair the damage. The little sewer also liked to grow vegetables and could produce lots of produce for her family. But she drew the line at taking out the refuse and would refuse to carry out the garbage. And try as she might, she could never teach the sow to sow. But that’s a story for another time.
Now despite her protests, every week on garbage day, her husband would lead her to the trash containers and tell her to get the lead out, as he went off to work. And by the way, he resented the fact that she didn’t know how to row a boat and she wouldn’t let him teach her. But again I digress, as that has nothing to do with my story.
Anyway, one day as she was reluctantly hauling the garbage bins to the curb, a dove suddenly dove into her hair. She screamed and ran into the street, where the poor little sewer fell into an open sewer. She tried to pull herself out using her scarf, but the wind was too strong inside the tunnel and she couldn’t hold the scarf steady enough to wind it around the pipes. Then suddenly in the street above her, she heard an invalid arguing with a policeman about an invalid parking spot. She screamed for help and thankfully, they were close enough to rescue her and close the sewer cap to prevent others from falling in.
Now while all this was happening, her husband had been seconded to a new job, voted on and seconded by the manager at the construction company. He was doing some roof repairs at the Hot Cactus Resort when his cell phone rang. Upon hearing his wife’s distress, he instantly made the decision to desert his job in the desert and rush to his little sewer’s side. He was upset to see that she had hurt her arm in the fall, so he lovingly wound a bandage around the wound.
From that day on, never again did he object to her objections about taking out the garbage, as this had become the object of her near demise. And never again did they row about him teaching her how to row a boat either. So from that day forward, the little Polish seamstress came to her senses and said she would never polish his boots again either. Amen to that!
I’m delighted to report they lived happily ever after.
See you between the lines,
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