your hands are too big

There are many devices on Kitt Peak whereby astronomers scan the sky. I leave them to their devices. When I go up the mountain, it is to picnic among the jay-haunted oaks. In the summertime the air is cool up there. The gound is strewn with tiny acorns. I once saw children gathering them, and this dialouge took place:

"What are you going to do with those acorns?" I asked.

"Sell them ro neighborhood children."

"For how much?"

"A Penny a handful."

"May I buy some?"

The children thought a minute and then one said, "No."

"Why not?"

"Your hands are too big."


Lawrence Clark Powell. Southwest: Three Definitions. Singing Wind Bookstore. 1990. p.52