Allocaeshus took things slow. The man spent hours choosing the main course of dinner and a few more hours picking the vegetables.
“Never want to rush a good thing. It might lead to disappointment,” Allocaeshus said.
When planting his crops, he placed the seeds at a measured depth and applied the exact amount of water.
“One can’t rush perfection when it comes to farming,” said Allocaeshus. The thing was, he grew the best crops in the county.
Allocaeshus did have one thing he loved to do more than anything else: thinking.
Allocaeshus would walk to a lone oak in his meadow and sit contemplating life’s mysteries.
“This here tree is my thinking tree,” remarked Allocaeshus.
Hour after hour, he’d sit under the mighty oak, thinking about anything and everything.
Some villagers said he had a few screws loose in his noggin. Those who knew him well understood that Allocaeshus was wiser than most.
“If you have a problem that no one can solve, Allocaeshus will give you an answer,” said the miller.
The trouble was that it took him so long that the problem was often forgotten.
Allocaeshus was fond of saying, “Haste makes waste, and a good problem needs a good going over.”
All those who see him under his tree for thinking give him a shout, “Tis a fine day for thinking, Allocaeshus.”
Allocaeshus always hollers back, “As good as they come.”
If traveling in County Clare and you spot a little man sitting under a tree, give him a wave. That’s Allocaeshus thinking about one thing or another.
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