A little while ago I was invited to a Pink Baby Shower. I’m sorry I couldn’t go – I would have loved to see all those little pink babies pouring down, chubby bouncing ones of course, and none of them hurt on landing. David Jermann must have had a similar reaction resulting in this “Putti Pandemonium”:
I chuckled at the thought of baroque putti drifting down like the snow that has been falling steadily these last few days, and then it struck me that you could have babies of every colour, a Rainbow Baby Shower, in fact. Or perhaps you just sit a bunch of babies in the bathtub and sprinkle them with a shower? Bring your own pink baby for that, of course. All very Anne Geddes, anyway!
It’s well known that once you become aware of a phenomenon it recurs frequently: when you are pregnant, every other woman you see seems to be expecting, and when you have a dog, you constantly meet other dog owners. So it is with this ambiguous use of adjective + noun + noun: the “black ladies’ gloves” syndrome. A day after the Pink Babies had happily showered in my imagination, I noticed the label on a box in the kitchen cupboard: White Hand Blender it says. Is there any connection with the Red Hand Gang or the Black Foot Indians? What happens when you blend white hands? I’m still pondering that one.
Oh yes, I have seen insects of all shapes and sizes, but I hadn’t realised why. Now I know: they are adjustable. Are all insects adjustable, or only some of them? Obviously, adjustable insects must be dangerous, or why would anyone want to kill them? And if they are rapidly being exterminated, does that make them an endangered species, which we should be protecting rather than hunting down?