You remember Huck in the woods when he heard that strange noise them ghosts make, when they have something on mind they can’t make themselves understood about.
Except I don’t believe in ghosts, and I am perfectly a living human, the same would have happened to me today. Jemma brought Buddie’s puppies to show how big they’d got, and… we forgot them for a while.
I’d had three baseball gloves, TO that PAST time.
Let me say no more, on what I was feeling. Now I’ve got four gloves, one from Jemma’s dad, and I can reckon on matters with some inner absolute comfort.
You know that grammar has four Aspects, the Simple, the Progressive, the Perfect, and the Perfect Progressive. I have clarity on the Simple matter to be Simple, and the Progressive to be Progressive, but those Perfect and Progressive things got mixed up somehow, I thought.
For the Perfect Aspect, we can figure as if we have gotten TO a place. This may be more of a progress than things happening TO a time, when you think about three gloves in precisely pieces, but things also get better sometimes, so I think, it is to a mark in place or time you get TO reckon, with the Perfect Aspect.
The Perfect Progressive is like about life’s business AT some “place” in time. We combine the Perfect and the Progressive, and figure on people, creatures, or matters.
I’ll have been keeping an eye on Buddie’s puppy for two hours, when the clock goes four. Time ago, a puppy herself, Buddie always ran straight ahead and out in the flower garden, if you let her out of the house. Jemma’d done some reckoning on that too. Check this one out: