I used to have a lovely one. Oh, it was beautiful. I mean, simplicity defined. Wooden, of course. A few cricks in it. Around the base of the legs. I fell through it a few times. Once whilst trying to ride a bike. I miss her. I mean, yes, one could argue that it was just a gate – oh wait, wrong gate. Oh, never mind. Ignore this paragraph. Oh wait, you can’t. Ha, ha, ha…
The word gait comes from a German word, which meant street. How that evolved into the modern meaning is wonderment for another day. Oh, yes. It’s not as if I don’t know the evolution and that pretending to leave it for another day is my way of running away. Rapidly running away. Oh no, not at all. Ahem. So, gait.
Gait is your manner of walking. We never used think about how we walked as a species, did we? There weren’t cavemen wiggling their bottoms side to side in a flirtatious manner in a similar way to some modern women because they think it makes them attractive. Maybe it does. It might just be me that finds it funny. You know, wearing your attractiveness on your sleeve. People who alter their gait for the sake of looking attractive really are the kind of people who think looks matter. Cavemen didn’t care. One of the many lessons they can teach us. The other being how to rock a good grunt. Yes, indeed.
I don’t think about my gait. I’m gangly and us lot usually walk with a distinctive gait. A bit like we’re doing lunges with each step. The speed of my walk varies depending on where I’m heading to. A meeting is a slow walk. The bakery is a rapid walk. Almost a gallop. I have a bit of a limp. Knee injury. Never got it fixed. Should have. I don’t like surgeons or indeed anyone coming at me with a large scalpel. Knife, more like. Let’s say sword. So I refused the surgery. I walk with a swagger because of it. Makes me look like a fool. Not the only thing that does, mind. I like to think of my gait as a shy but reassured one.
I like my gait. But I miss my gate. I really don’t know why new houses don’t have gates. But that’s for another day. And I mean it this time.
The Friday Bonus Question:
Plucked from the basement of the internet, a bewildering real question that defies logic and an answer, here for you to ponder:
If PCP gives you extra strength and makes you immune to pain, should people use it to fight crime?
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Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:
The Indelible Life of Me
The One Hundredth Spectacular Amazapalooza
Hark Around The Words