Archive | April, 2011

Another Mother-in-Law Crisis

25 Apr

MIL: Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, my television is on the blink.

Ms.  Mousebert: What’s wrong now mother?

MIL: I don’t know. It started acting funny, so I started pushing all the buttons on the control thingy and then on the TV and cable box, and now all I get is static. I’ve tried disconnecting things and plugging things back in.

Ms.  Mousebert: Well you did the right thing, because when you have a problem the first thing you should do is push all the buttons you have no idea what they may do and start disconnecting and  plugging then back into God knows where, instead of calling me first.

MIL: Well that makes me feel better. I thought I might have screwed it up.

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Door Mats

19 Apr

OK, I received this by email and I have been sharing it with friends. For some reason gmail can mess with jpegs and I keep forgetting that.

Enjoy!

If you could read my mind

17 Apr



If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie,
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well.
In a castle dark or a fortress strong,
With chains upon my feet.
You know that ghost is me.
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see. 

If I could read your mind, love,
What a tale your thoughts could tell.
Just like a paperback novel,
The kind the drugstores sell.
Then you reached the part where the heartaches come,
The hero would be me.
But heroes often fail,
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take!

I'd walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three way script.
Enter number two:
A movie queen to play the scene
Of bringing all the good things out in me.
But for now, love, let's be real;
I never thought I could  feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong,
But the feeling's gone
And I just can't get it back. 

If you could read my mind, love,
What a tale my thoughts could tell.
Just like an old time movie,
'Bout a ghost from a wishing well.
In a castle dark or a fortress strong.
With chains upon my feet.
But stories always end,
And if you read between the lines,
You'd know that I'm just tryin' to understand
The feelin's that you lack.
I never thought I could feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it.
I don't know where we went wrong,
But the feelin's gone
And I just can't get it back!

Just waiting

11 Apr

Sitting here, outside on a Sunday afternoon with the sounds of suburbia
the birds, the gentle breeze, mixed with the random cacophony and constant background sounds of man and his influence
the bark of a dog,
the hypnotic hum of compressors
the paroxysm of a car alarm

Calm – interrupted by the sucking mosquitoes (euphemism)

A red tail hawk, a chicken hawk, stares at me
I’m too big for a meal
chased away by smaller blackbirds

The Turkey vulture circles overhead – I’m not dead yet.
dog dumps in yard
that shall draw in the muse I wish to attract!
Now rolling in the grass, fortunately not the same spot

The beer is more bitter than I care for
odd, usually I like this brand, and it’s far less bitter than many I drink

There a faint perfume in the air
chirping house sparrows (English Sparrows)
they are very friendly, but messy
Jasmine!

Inspected by a wasp
I am of no interest
a Warning?

Where is the damn muse?
Cheep, cheep tweets the sparrow
please, no aerial presents

I know where the muse hides
but like the cat scampering about
she must come to me
I cannot chase her down and catch her
must set the mood and entice
occasionally I can grab and hold
like the cat, she purrs for a moment then leaps free

I know what frighten the muse
but powerless to rectify
I am not her master

Morning Daffodils

1 Apr

Daffodils

As I stroll among the hills,
and gazed upon the daffodils.
sunrise mist streams gently down
the people stir in nearby town

Arising from slumber’s thrall
The steam kettles to breakfast call
Oh, what splendor I do view
Aurora’s fields in glistening dew

As clouds meander over waves of daffodils
I recall the lass with unlaced espadrilles
The mind does wander to times long lost
Unknown to me would be its cost

I charged les châteaux dans l’air
Upon arrival, there was nothing there

She was lovely as the daffodils
Beyond my reach
Forever still

And still I hope to see once more
The lovely lass whom I’d adore
With field of daffodils and spring in air
I know it’s not, I shall not dare

Field of daffodils

Version 3.0: What do you thing? Vote early, vote often.

As I stroll among the hills,
and gazed upon the daffodils.
sunrise mist streams gently down
the people stir in nearby town

Released from slumber’s thrall
The steam kettles’ shrill to breakfast call
Oh, what splendor I do view
Aurora’s fields in glistening dew

As clouds meander over waves of daffodils
I recall the lass with unlaced espadrilles
The mind does wander to times long lost
Unknown to me would be its cost

I charged les châteaux dans l’air
Upon arrival, there was nothing there

As lovely as the daffodils
Beyond my reach
Forever still

And still I hope to see once more
The lovely lass whom I’d adore
With field of daffodils and spring in air
I know it’s not, I shall not dare

Wordworth's Daffodils

 

 

View from Wordworth's Estate