Friday, February 06, 2009
tracks, pink, swiss
When I look at the photograph of these tyre tracks, I see a pineapple.
In Mount Pleasant, a woman with a carrying voice says to her companion: " Pink! People don't get married in pink. They get married in white."
On my desk is a Swiss army knife, which I have had for a number of years. Thinking about it just now, I recall how it was nearly instrumental in killing me or alternatively how it saved my life. I was in the process of repairing the electric shears with which I used to prune our hedge. When unscrewing the plug from the cable extension, I forgot to switch off the current. The wires of the cable needed to be stripped of their plastic sheaths, in order to secure them to the plug terminals. Using the smaller of the two conventional blades among the many gadgets on the knife, I proceeded to chip away at the plastic, when I was surprised by a flash, a bang and a burnt smell. I looked down at the knife and saw that a notch about 2mm deep, spreading into a cavity five mm wide had appeared in the blade. The fuse had of course blown. The first thing that I asked myself was why I had not been electrocuted. I do so again now.There appears to be no insulation on the knife, which is, I believe, made entirely of steel. I have never sought to enquire further, but from time to time wonder whether there is something in the design of the knife which saves idiots like me from electrocution? Or whether I was just lucky?