In this year of the monkey I am attempting to clean a brass lid with ketchup. Bob Vila told me to. So far the results are not terrific, but I will persevere. Naturally I am wondering about the term "brass monkey".
Much of the nation will be extremely cold this weekend, what might be called "brass monkey weather", while I'll be having lunch on a park bench soaking up the vitamin D. For a century and a half the weather has been torturing brass monkeys, freezing parts off here, and melting others off there. No ketchup was involved in this colloquialism.
Adding to my unease is my inability to locate the small figure of three wise monkeys from Grandma's dining room whatnot shelf. Surely I stored See, Hear, and Speak No Evil in a logical place, and don't call me Shirley.
If the ketchup doesn't do the trick, I could try salsa. But then what would I put on my breakfast burrito?
© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder