Rubbed in Garlic and Pepper, and a New Language

There are times when only a steak will do. This boneless rib is sitting on the turned-off grill on top of a piece of pita bread, so the juices from the steak will soak into the bread.

Actually, there were two.



Plot and Duck ate one, along with a salad with Plottie's Not-Too-Famous and Not-Quite-Russian Dressing, with some tomatoes from the pots on the deck, and the second steak will hopefully be there when lunchtime crawls along.

Sorry, NotThat.

Meanwhile, Mr. Chun is on the ladder right outside Plotnik's studio. He is working with a young Latino helper, and the two of them are communicating in a language never before heard on Earth. Mr. Chun understands English well, but he speaks with a very thick accent, of the sort that makes Duck and Plot listen to him with great concentration and then stare at each other with narrowed eyes until one or the other indicates that he or she has understood anything at all that Mr. Chun just said. Patience is important.

Plotnik has discerned that Mr. Chun's Central American helper speaks no English at all, and yet he and Mr. Chun appear to be shouting to each other in a language they both understand perfectly. It sounds like Koreanly syntacted Englishly seasoned Polyglot Gruntlish. Mr. Chun grunts and his helper brings him a rope. Mr. Chun grunts again and his helper brings him the rain gutter. Mr. Chun grunts once more and his helper laughs. Ha ha, good joke, Mr. Chun. Everybody's happy.

Best of all, Mr. Chun is a great roofer and a very nice man. He was probably highly educated in his own country. In only two days plus a few hours the roof is just about done. And the living language expands.