Two boys were fighting over food,
A small girl asked to bless the food,
What can I say...it’s just a ‘poetry’ week!
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Six of Seventeen... |
Okay, I am the last person to advise someone on their love live. Seriously. Whom you love is between you and them and I wish you every happiness. Even as a small child, I defended Ms. Pussy Cat’s choice of suitor.
It was a few other aspects of their story that had me…concerned. Oh, I had no problem with their pea-green boat. Between you and me, when I sail, I see a lot of that colour. Too much, in point of fact.
But, fine. They can paint their boat whatever colour they want. It’s a free world… My bigger concern was their choice to bring some honey and their money wrapped up. Together. Choice of wrapping aside, do you see the inevitable difficulty?
For one thing, wouldn’t their money get…I don’t know…sticky? I don’t know about you but whenever I’m around honey—and you have to know I am VERY careful and apply using only approved utensils—every finger I own ends up sticky.
And a few other fingers besides. Why just yesterday, I was spreading honey for my granddaughter’s PBH and both of us had to be hosed down afterward. True story. And, just incidentally, I didn’t even get a bite of said sandwich.
Just thought I should put that out there. Ahem… Sooo do you suppose merchants they met balked at taking their sticky money? I know I would have. It’s bad enough when I ‘sticky’ myself (see PBH above) but taking someone else’s?
Ew. I’m seeing more of that pea-green colour. Now I loved the part where the owl, by the light of the stars, sang so sweetly to his lady-love. That would have melted the most romance-resistant heart on the planet. Just sayin’.
Ms. Pussy Cat’s head was certainly turned. So much so that SHE proposed marriage on the spot. I’d call that a success. Any thoughts? Their only snag was the fact that there are relatively few jewelry stores on the high seas.
Undeterred, the two sailed for just over a year, finally making landfall in the fabled land of the ‘Bong Tree’. And interestingly, no sooner had they set foot on this island, they discovered, I’m assuming among the Bong trees, a pig.
With a very convenient ring in the end of its nose. Okay, two things: Just how large was this ring? And secondly, how hygienic? I mean, have you EVER seen a pig’s nose? They sniff a lot of rather unsavoury stuff.
The price was certainly good, no arguments there. In today’s money, they paid roughly 6 cents US. Okay, there’s a whole argument that can be made vis-a-vis getting ripped off in paying for something special and simply not paying enough.
But let’s not go there. The marriage apparently occurred the next day. When you’ve been sailing for over a year and you have no idea of your next port, it’s probably advisable to take care of business while you can. Agreed?
A local, hillbilly turkey (You imagine him how you want and I’ll imagine him how I want…) took care of the formalities. The reception was good. Or at least the food was. (Hey! I like Mince! And quince jam? Very mmmmm.)
And to feed each other with a runcible spoon? Perfect. (Okay, no, I don’t know what it is either.) But the truly textbook touch was the wedding dance by the light of the moon. That cemented it. This relationship will last!
So Ms. Cat and Mr. Owl’s story is actually one about overcoming obstacles,
ie. fur and feathers, sticky money and pigs’ nose rings, choices of living accommodations:
trees vs barns. And marrying your love. And isn’t that what it’s all about?
There seems so little we can do
For troubled folks we know (or knew),
Apart from giving money, goods,
T’help others navigate their ‘woods’,
But something that reduces strive?
Helps others make it through their life?
All we can do is not condemn,
Then don a colour just for them.
Like YELLOW just to show we care,
That we are suicide aware,
And RED for Heart Health, yes indeed,
We wear that shade for those who need,
There’s GREEN for Mental Health, oh yes,
It’s more important than you’d guess,
And BLUE or PLAID for cancers there,
To those who hurt from those who care,
The RAINBOW shows that you endorse
The LGBTQ, of course,
And finally BLACK—support is strong,
That gender-based hurt is very wrong…
So all these colours bring us to
The colour PURPLE, old and new,
So why don that shade? You may ask,
Who would we help with such a task?
It started with an ‘alien’ bent,
A friendly sign from ‘earth’ was sent,
And PEACE was offered, yes, indeed,
If e’er those aliens had a need,
But now it is a little more,
It shows that violence we abhor,
And nasty despots have no place
Cannot cause pain to any race,
So please wear purple, show that you,
Want PEACE in this old world, too!
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Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com |
Purple for Peace (May 16) Today!
Turtles (May 23)
Memorial Day (May 30)
Yo-yo (June 6)
Roller Coaster (June 13)
World Refugee Day (June 20)
The Happy Birthday song (June 27)
Sally shrugged. “I don’t know why they got so bent. Mort had paid for the stupid ring.”
“Just another in a long string of misunderstandings, Sal,”
Mort said, flipping a page in the magazine he was reading.
I raised an eyebrow. “Something you seem to excel at, Sis.”
She made a face. “The guard was new and a bit trigger-happy.”
“He pulled a gun?” Using one oven mitt-encased hand, Mom whacked
Mort’s feet to get them off the coffee table, then set down a platter of
bubbly, cheese-filled appetizers.
“Nope. A cell phone. With a speed dial to the police.” Sally grabbed a round of cracker, ham
and melted cheese and popped it into her mouth. “Oooh. Theeth are HOT!”
Mom grinned at her. “You think? I did just take them out of
the oven!”
I looked at her. “So what happened with you and Uncle Pete?”
Mom glanced at her newly-minted fiancé and blushed. Let’s
face it. She’s not cut out of quite the same ‘thumb-my-nose-at-the-world’ stuff
as Sally. “Another misunderstanding.”
I merely looked at her. “We’re listening.”
She sat beside Uncle Pete and they linked hands. “We were just in the wrong place at the wrong
time, to tell the truth. Apparently there had been a mugging nearby and the
perpetrator…”
“What big words you know,” I said.
She tossed me a glare, cleared her throat and went on. “…the
perpetrator looked like a decidedly attractive ex-marine recently returned from
Afghanistan.”
Uncle Peter smiled at her. “I love
you,” he said. She blushed even more.
“See? Easily explained,” Sally said, reaching for another
cracker.
Peter and I exchanged a glance. “So what do we do now?”
Sally bounced to her feet. “Let me grab some money. WE are going shopping!”
I summoned up a smile. “Have fun.”
“No. Not Mort and me! YOU and me!”
I had time to look at Peter hopelessly whilst reciting the
oft-misquoted ‘We who are about to die salute you!’ before I was jerked from my
comfortable perch on the couch.
In less time than I imagined possible, the two of us were
skating up and down aisles at Dollar Tree. Sally was pulling packaged decorations
off shelves with total abandon. “Oooh! This! And this! And these!” She pushed her
laden cart(s), collecting another as one was filled. Before long, she had a
positive train.
I glanced at my watch. We’d been there 7 minutes.
I tried to get her attention. “Sal, don’t you think it would
be much smarter to actually come up with a theme—or at least colours—and then
go to a Bridal Wedding planning company and start there?”
Sally looked at me. “They have such a place?”
“Several.” I edged past the tottering pile in the cart
nearest me. “They’ll help you plan your wedding and everything.”
Sally pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. Then she
started pushing her carts toward the checkout. “Well, we’ll get…”
That was as far as she ‘got’.
As Sally was rounding the corner from aisle 4 something—on
of her pockets? —caught one of the shelves.
In a heartbeat, it and all three of its closest neighbours
came crashing down, ejecting their contents. Instantly, the center of the aisle
became a war zone.
Shoppers—and me—scattered.
Sally calmly remained—haven’t I told you she’s made of stern
stuff—and, when the manager and a small army of employees approached, pointed
at the mess. “There’s been an accident,” she said, needlessly.
As the manager et al gaped at her, Sally pushed/pulled her
carts to the checkout. The young man behind the till had been staring at what
he could see of the mess behind her. He turned wide eyes to Sally. “Erm…” was
all he could manage.
Sally merely shrugged. “Please add these things up,” she
said. “And anything that’s broken in there.” She pointed.
You know, I don’t say this often (in point of fact, never), but
sometimes, I’m downright proud of my sister.
Life with her is never boring, and actually is often filled
with laughter and that’s the truth.
The future is now—if we can just survive it…
My words:
Were given to me, via Karen, from my friend, Jenniy at Climaxed
Now go and see what words the others got—and how they used them!
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The source of all that was delicious. |
It was becoming quite familiar.
The ringing phone.
The incomprehensible number, which had a second number under
it corresponding to someplace local.
Husby reached for it. “Ugh,” he said.
Tax season seems to encourage these types of calls.
Much like spring inviting flowers.
Although I have to admit, I much prefer flowers to 'scammy' phone
calls.
Just sayin’…
Husby pressed the button. “Hello?” he said tentatively.
“This is Service Canada.” A robotic voice.
Husby rolled his eyes. You have to know that, had it really
been an official call, he would have been accommodating and polite.
Or at least polite.
“Your social insurance number has been canceled due to
suspicious activity…”
Husby pressed the ‘end’ button and dropped the phone to the
table.
I looked up from my breakfast. “How many is that this
morning?”
“Three,” he said wearily. “They started early.”
I went back to my porridge.
But the whole thing makes me think. I mean, just what has my
social insurance number been up to that is so suspicious. Did it steal a car?
Rob a bank? Can’t you just picture my tidy little number running down the street packing heat? Obviously, it's good at what it does because it has only raised
suspicions. I know! Train robbery!
We should make a movie…
I love music, yessiree,
I’ve always something playing,
The songs that make me sing along,
Or softer ones for praying.
Whatever mood I’m seeking, well,
There’s music made to order,
From instrumentals soft and sweet,
To bagpipe and recorder.
Feeling chip and cheerful, well,
There’s music for that too,
And songs lamenting broken hearts,
And some just for the blues.
There’s some I like to play real loud,
Like CCR (the best),
While others lull me off to dreamland,
Help me take a rest.
But just today, I realized
That music (you’ll agree!)
Designed with all my moods in mind…?
Must be written just for me!
P.S. I’m happy to share. You’re welcome!
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Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com |
Music (May 9) Today!
Purple for Peace (May 16)
Turtles (May 23)
Memorial Day (May 30)
Yo-yo (June 6)
Roller Coaster (June 13)
World Refugee Day (June 20)
The Happy Birthday song (June 27)
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Drive with caution. |