kookabat
5th Mar 2010, 02:15
I’ve fallen for a beautiful woman. She has class, she has style. She moves in a timeless graceful and almost stately manner. But she is a frustrating creature and she doesn’t give her affections away lightly. She has expensive tastes, and she’s very high-maintenance.
It’s a tempestuous love affair. From our very first meeting, she did not make it easy to even catch her eye - hiding away in the darkest corner of the room with everyone else in the way. Once I succeeded in getting her into the open so I could have a good look at her, she just sat there, eyeing me contemptuously. Finding the right switches to flick to get her to warm to me is an art, and has not become easier even as we have become better acquainted. If I get it right, she purrs.
But she can be a moody bitch sometimes. When I get it wrong, she turns on me very quickly. She rewards my full attention, but if my thoughts wander, even for a second, she will remind me who is really in charge. She will play with my head – letting me think that I have almost worked her quirks out. But then the next time she will put me firmly back into my place. When I left her this morning, she was laughing at me.
So why do I keep coming back to her?
Because I know there is a soft side to the old girl. The way the wind makes her sing. The way she lets her tail down when she wants to. And the way she takes me with her. I know there is no real malice to the laughter when we part. I know she likes to play mean sometimes, to keep me humble. I know that the gentle side is there, somewhere – she has shown me once or twice. But for the moment she is keeping it firmly hidden.
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I wrote the above following a particularly traumatic session of circuits in a Tiger Moth. I had thought that I was 'getting it', but the old girl showed me otherwise this morning. I drove home from the airfield feeling very humbled. I swear I could hear her laughing at me as I walked past to my car!
http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee27/kookabat/Tiger%20Moth/Tiger002.jpg
It’s a tempestuous love affair. From our very first meeting, she did not make it easy to even catch her eye - hiding away in the darkest corner of the room with everyone else in the way. Once I succeeded in getting her into the open so I could have a good look at her, she just sat there, eyeing me contemptuously. Finding the right switches to flick to get her to warm to me is an art, and has not become easier even as we have become better acquainted. If I get it right, she purrs.
But she can be a moody bitch sometimes. When I get it wrong, she turns on me very quickly. She rewards my full attention, but if my thoughts wander, even for a second, she will remind me who is really in charge. She will play with my head – letting me think that I have almost worked her quirks out. But then the next time she will put me firmly back into my place. When I left her this morning, she was laughing at me.
So why do I keep coming back to her?
Because I know there is a soft side to the old girl. The way the wind makes her sing. The way she lets her tail down when she wants to. And the way she takes me with her. I know there is no real malice to the laughter when we part. I know she likes to play mean sometimes, to keep me humble. I know that the gentle side is there, somewhere – she has shown me once or twice. But for the moment she is keeping it firmly hidden.
--------------------------
I wrote the above following a particularly traumatic session of circuits in a Tiger Moth. I had thought that I was 'getting it', but the old girl showed me otherwise this morning. I drove home from the airfield feeling very humbled. I swear I could hear her laughing at me as I walked past to my car!
http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee27/kookabat/Tiger%20Moth/Tiger002.jpg