From: Paul S. Dixon (dixonps@juno.com)
Date: Mon Mar 30 1998 - 20:52:55 EST
On Thu, 26 Mar 1998 08:41:51 -0500 Jim Beale <beale@uconect.net> writes:
>At 12:40 PM -0500 3/24/98, Paul S. Dixon wrote:
>
>>On Tue, 24 Mar 1998 00:08:43 -0500 Jim Beale <beale@uconect.net>
>writes:
>>
>>cut
>>>And that was from Paul Dixon's desperate question about how to
>>>rid his Attic of the pesky SKIOUROS. The question of how the
>>>SKIOUROS got into the Attic is left as an exercise. . .
>>>
>>> KAI TALANTWi DEXIOTHS KAI NOOS STAQMHSETAI
>>[...]
>>
>>And by right talent and understanding he should weigh. Indeed!
>
>That's not what I meant to say!! I thought I wrote:
>
> and cleverness and wit will be weighed on scales
>
>Did I say what I meant to say? (I can say in English that it's
>much easier to read Greek than it is to compose Greek!:)
Well, I'll give you the future middle, but it sure did look like an
aorist subjunctive. Regardless, it is 3rd person singular, so "he" or
"it" is the subject. So, it might better be rendered:
and he shall weigh with a measure of wit (the right side [of the brain])
and understanding
Well, er, thanks, Jim, for the compliment. Actually, the squirrel in the
attic thing all started with my being tenderhearted to animals. One day I
was seated at my computer when I noticed a squirrel run along the
telephone line to the roof of our house. He gave the impression of being
hungry, so I opened the window and placed some nuts on the roof just
outside the window. This soon became a ritual. He got so comfortable
with my presence that all he would have to do is scratch on the screen
whereupon I would turn, and he would run to the roof pinnacle of the
porch, turn to face me, stand back on his hind legs, and hold an
imaginary nut in his front paws while nibbling (no kidding). The first
time I saw this I couldn't believe it, but there it was.
Well, word must have gotten out among the squirrels that the Dixon home
was an easy score. Pretty soon there was a Moma and two little baby
squirrels running along the telephone line regularly to the roof. But,
as cute as they were, something had to be done. They can eat through
insulation, wires and even walls. To make a long story short: they are
gone and we no longer hear the pitter pat of running feet late at night
in the attic of our home. By the way, we no longer hear the pitter pat
of our 7 children as they are all grown and mostly gone from home. We
did return late last night, however, from a trip to Alabama (we live in
Oregon) where I successfully married off one of our lovely girls.
Thanks for your patience, Carl. Just thought I'd wrap up this skivvies
thread with the story of its origin.
Paul Dixon
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