Mr Fixit - aka Isaac

I am looking for poems about seasons to share with a poetry group on Monday night.  It has nothing to do with writing poetry although some of the members might be prolific writers.  They share their favourite poems with others in this group.  This month’s theme is “Seasons”.

I have just about settled on one poem by Isaac Watts the hymn writer.  He’s moist famous for his hymns writing and I daresay we have all sung at least one of 750 he wrote.

As well as reading the poem we are expected to share a little bit about the poet.  I clicked on to the biography part of the website.  I didn’t really read that far as the opening few paragraphs caught my imagination

“From an early age, Watts displayed a propensity for rhyme. Once, he responded when asked why he had his eyes open during prayers:

“A little mouse for want of stairs

 ran up a rope to say its prayers.”

Receiving corporal punishment for this, he cried:

“O father, father, pity take

 And I will no more verses make.”

I might share his propensity for rhyme but I cannot do these things swiftly.  The concept of talking in rhyming couplets impresses me possibly almost as much as it frustrates me.

Let’s talk about Thursday.  It was new-oven delivery day and my husband took the day off work to be there.  Seeing as he was at home he invited a friend, a recently retired friend, a recently retired Mr Fixit friend, a recently retired Mr Fixit friend who was feeling just a little bored.  He has probably fixed everything in his house that needed fixing and was looking for new adventures.  Our house qualifies.

So what did he fix?  Aka Isaac..

The garden gate was in a state

The hinges broke and busted
Others fitted shiny new
The first task done and dusted

Note to reader – I had long stopped using the garden gate, the quick way to get to the path to the field to the short cut to work.  It wasn’t just the lifting of the gate but the spiders and webs that seemed to get spun overnight.  The various collection bins had been relocated to the front patio to avoid the garden gate.  Please imagine my delight at bins and short cuts being back in their proper places.

A kitchen light no longer worked

The fitting came apart
Another fitted shiny new
For bright light to impart

Note to reader – the house is not old in terms of really old.  Fifty years house-wise isn’t really old.  Mr Fixit suggested we might want to have the house re-wired.  A long time ago a light fitting in the front room crumbled.  I was much younger then and full of optimism and we had the Reader’s Digest DIY manual. Let’s just say that they book presumes basic knowledge which I didn’t have.  The explosion overhead was a small one.  I wasn’t injured but rather shaken.  A man who knew what he was doing fixed it later than afternoon.

The whirly gig had sadly died
Leaning on its broken side
Another fitted shiny new
Whirling gladly can be spied

Note to reader – I don’t really like whirly gigs.  A previous house we rented had the most magnificent washing line and prop.  The garden was awfully long and the line happily accommodated two washing machine loads! I think that whirly gigs speak to me of confined spaces and small garden space efficiency.  Incidentally the confer tree was hacked at the make way for the new whirly gig.

It’s not a complete list of mendings by any means.  Mr Fixit has left his tools here as he has spotted a number of other things that didn’t appear on the list I gave my husband on Thursday. 

It is the accumulation of fairly little things that aren’t working – those little foxes that damage the vine – that a person can live with, and does, that silently and slowly sap away the spirit. Big things have to be dealt with, small things not so much.  Getting the small things fixed has a bigger effect than you would imagine!