There’s nothing like a good saying - a bit of Aussie slang, a proverb, a moral, a cliché, a well-worn line from a poem, a titbit of Latin. From the graceful to the banal, I love them all.
For instance, there are so many great things to shout when amazed - Stone the crows! Strike me dead! Well, roll me on the beach and call me Sandy! You wouldn't read about it in the papers!
And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
When left unsupervised with a whole box of chocolates, I am taunted by Proverbs 25.16 - If you find honey, eat just enough - too much of it, and you will vomit. (NIV Bible). There is also every girl's fear - A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. But usually, what wins out is carpe diem or seize the day … which, of course, is just one step away from seize the chocolate! (Carpe socolate?)
And then there are the general gems of wisdom that should guide me safely, happily and successfully through each day. I know that too many cooks spoil the broth, that a stitch in time saves nine and to strike while the iron’s hot. I will never look a gift horse in the mouth and always look before I leap. I truly believe that Rome wasn’t built in a day, there’s no point in crying over spilt milk and you can’t take it with you when you go. (Another good excuse for eating those chocolates. CARPE SOCOLATE!!!)
I could go on until the cows come home, but I probably should cut to the chase before you think I’m carrying on like a pork chop.
There are times when a saying seems tailor-made to a situation. Yesterday was full of them. My husband returned from a two week stay with his family in Denmark, bearing gifts, family heirlooms and photographs. This is one of his holiday pics:
These hastily-made open sandwiches were his last meal before leaving Denmark three days ago. To me it looks like a scene of carnage upon which a cat has done something disgusting. To my husband, it is a picture of his favourite Danish lunch time foods - rye bread, pickled herring, claggy cheese, rolled pork and remoulade (cauliflower mayonnaise). Home on a sandwich. Beauty for the eyes and the taste buds. Which just goes to show that one man’s meat is another man’s poison.
My Danish wanderer then produced a one litre bottle of remoulade (see gross yellow squiggles on sandwich above) that he had bought especially for us, his beloved family. This just goes to show that he doesn't know what's good for him and probably has a screw loose. I was feeling rather hard done-by, until he also pulled six buckets (six!!!) of Haribo sweets from his suitcase. The barn on his parents' Christmas tree farm is used as storage by a Haribo sales rep who kindly tossed these goodies our way. Bliss! And proof that the sales rep is worth his weight in gold, has his head screwed on the right way and is a right corker.