I know it’s bad luck to walk under a ladder. But what kind of luck is it to avoid being hit by a ladder that is blown over an inch in front of you? A prize for the best answer.
Since yesterday the Cape Doctor has been blowing. Wikipedia tells me that ‘Cape Doctor’ is an obsolete term and that people generally call it the ‘South-Easter’. But if you have a good name for a wind, why not use it?
How do you know the (Cape) Doctor is in the house? Doors bang. Windows bang. Tree branches scrape the walls. On the streets people walk like Arctic explorers, teeth set, eyes squinting as they push into the wind.
My hair looks like I’m trying a new and experimental do (I’m not). I’ve already flashed the traffic on Main Road when I crossed and my shirt blew up. Skirts are strictly for the Marilyn Monroe-wannabe. This is not a gentle breeze I’m talking about.
But for some perverse reason, I like it.
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