Magpie #76 - Handy Harry

Image - Skip Hunt

(Tut! . . . .bugger!)  'HARRY!  The bloody thing's fallen over again!  You'll have to sort it out.  The sheep'll die o' thirst at this rate, and so will we.' 


I knew it wouldn't stay up, but he knows best because he's a man.  That one leg is so much shorter than the others, it had no chance of staying upright for long.  'Oh, yes, it'll be fine', he said, 'things with three legs find their own level'.  I know that, but in my opinion they do have to be more or less the same length.  Shortening the other two, or lengthening the one, would have meant putting himself out a tad.  That's really why things with three legs find their own level.


'HARRY!  It's four thirty.  If you don't get on with it now it'll be dark and that means no water for a shower and no water for dinner, or even a cuppa.  If you want to eat tonight, get a move on.'

'Alright, alright, woman.  Don't come out yer collar.  I'll go and see if I can find some wood in the shed to sprag that short leg up with.  That should sort it out until I can do a proper job'

'You might try fastening it to something a bit weighty, too.  It's too top-heavy to stand on its own.  And we've had this discussion more than once.'

Harry wanders off to the shed, returning an hour later.

'All sorted!'

'Oh, aye.  And what have you done?'

'I've stuck a piece of wood on the short leg and fastened it with some baling twine.  That should hold it for a bit.'

'Did you fasten it to something weighty so it won't topple over again?'

'I did.  I've fastened it to the tractor.'

Unbelievable!

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Wind rattles the blades

Still no rain in sight today

Clear, blue, cloudless sky

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These weekly visual prompts are courtesy of Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales, where you can find more poems and prose.