I very nearly got run over by a FedEx truck this morning.
To be honest, it didn't try to run me over. It just tried to run me off the road and into a creek. Fortunately, the foot and a half of off-road land before the drop-off was enough for me to avoid. Even if I had gone over the edge, the creek was empty, so there wasn't much of a drowning danger. Still, I'm a little bit irked that the truck seemed to make no effort to use the extra foot and a half of space on its side of the road to move over. Instead, it kept coming along, well into my lane. Oh, well. That's not a very happy thought.
Instead, I intend to focus on the wonderfulness of an overcast day. No. It's not the uncloudy day that Willie sang about. This is most definitely a cloudy day. They are white clouds though. There's still plenty of light outside. The sun isn't shining into my eyes, blinding me.
I'm also happy for the joy that can be had from misinterpreting dangling participles. In case you don't remember, those are the tiny phrases incorrectly left til the end of the sentence so that they appear to modify something that they do not. Don't you remember your high school freshman English teacher getting after you about those, while you thought about how great it was that they didn't exist in Latin? For instance, the last sentence of the previous paragraph should have read: The sun, not shining into my eyes, isn't blinding me. Instead reads as though my eyes are blinding me. That only happens when I look at something truly unpleasant, like my freshman English teacher stepping out of the shower. Actually, that's not nice. My freshman English teacher was a very nice woman, although I would definitely not like to witness the above incident.
Pointless and random. My work here is done.
To be honest, it didn't try to run me over. It just tried to run me off the road and into a creek. Fortunately, the foot and a half of off-road land before the drop-off was enough for me to avoid. Even if I had gone over the edge, the creek was empty, so there wasn't much of a drowning danger. Still, I'm a little bit irked that the truck seemed to make no effort to use the extra foot and a half of space on its side of the road to move over. Instead, it kept coming along, well into my lane. Oh, well. That's not a very happy thought.
Instead, I intend to focus on the wonderfulness of an overcast day. No. It's not the uncloudy day that Willie sang about. This is most definitely a cloudy day. They are white clouds though. There's still plenty of light outside. The sun isn't shining into my eyes, blinding me.
I'm also happy for the joy that can be had from misinterpreting dangling participles. In case you don't remember, those are the tiny phrases incorrectly left til the end of the sentence so that they appear to modify something that they do not. Don't you remember your high school freshman English teacher getting after you about those, while you thought about how great it was that they didn't exist in Latin? For instance, the last sentence of the previous paragraph should have read: The sun, not shining into my eyes, isn't blinding me. Instead reads as though my eyes are blinding me. That only happens when I look at something truly unpleasant, like my freshman English teacher stepping out of the shower. Actually, that's not nice. My freshman English teacher was a very nice woman, although I would definitely not like to witness the above incident.
Pointless and random. My work here is done.
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