Twitchier

Over here, Tuesday is grass-cutting day. The neighbourhood grass-cutter goes from house to house cutting the grass, mowing the lawns, blowing the leaves. The cat gets very twitchy, and so does everyone else.

I fled the house at 2 pm to do some chores over at my parents' place. They had some repairs and other tasks that needed carrying out. We sat down for coffee and pie. It was a good time.

I returned, however, to more grass-cutting, the allergic responses thereto, and a cat who had lost it and was wailing. By the time things had settled down, I was... twitchier. I had to go through a twitching hour, you might say.

Tue Tue Tue

After every Monday comes a Tuesday, and this has been the oddly mismatched fruit of barbarian calendaring. It used to perturb me that the moon had a day at all; it seemed counterintuitive. But who was Tue?

I learnt later that it was Tiw, also Tyr and such, who got himself a day. He's Mars in the Roman pantheon, which explains why the Romance languages have the same day called Mardi and suchlike.

Well, Tiw eats his own.