Monday 26 August 2019

Poetry Monday: Marbles . . . and Funnies

It's Poetry Monday, and this week's topic is . . . MARBLES.

Join Delores, MotherOwl, Mimi, Diane and me as we find -- or lose -- ours.

You, too, can have your poetic efforts read by an enormous audience, all of whom are VIPs (Very Intelligent People) and also very kind. Write a little or a lot; use the topic or not. It's fun! It's free! It's the kind of brain exercise that's recommended to help stave off dementia as well as skin problems, questionable life choices, and early onset heeby-jeebies, so why not give it a try? You may post your poem here in the comments or on your own blog; if you do the latter, please leave a comment so we know where to find you.


I will apologize in advance for the icky nature of this poem. The two words "marble" and "harble" (hairball) kept clanging around in my head, so when I thought of "Barb'll", I'm afraid the outcome was simply unavoidable.


A Tale of Barb And Her Cat

There once was a feline named Marble
Who often produced a large harble
He favoured the rug
And he looked very smug
And when asked who'd clean up, he said "Barb 'll!"


How about some funnies to help get over that image?

That's it for this week!

Next week's topic will be .......... SUMMER FUN ................... thank you, Diane!

Hope your week has lots of lols in it :)

Monday 19 August 2019

Poetry Monday: Camping

It's Poetry Monday, and this week's topic is . . . CAMPING!!!

You'd think, looking at those exclamation marks, that I love camping. Hold that thought.

You, too, can pome -- write a little, write a lot, make it rhyme, make it not . . . see? that's how easy it is to join in. Leave a poem in the comments here or post on your own blog. If you do the latter, please leave a comment so we can find you and your poem.

And check out poems by Delores, MotherOwl, Mimi, and Diane in addition to mine. Enjoy!

Now back to that thought above.

Do I love camping? Is that why I'm all excited to write about this topic?



My husband likes camping, but he was a boy scout and liked that, too, so his enthusiasm about anything outdoorsy causes me to squint in an unbelieving manner in his direction.

But he assured me camping would be Fun. There were definite pluses to being in nature all day. The beauty of quiet forested campsites in our provincial parks, with lots of fresh air and birdsong, is still a happy memory for me; however, I was significantly unhappy about the lack of showers or flush toilets which goes along with those provincial parks. (Have I ever mentioned I have a sensitive nose? Oh, right; I have.)

The one trip on which we decided to "upgrade" to a private campground, I realized the showers and flush toilets and hot running water were offset by the lack of privacy that happens when campers are given ten square feet of space and who knows which folks with what questionable taste in music and parenting skills will set up next to you.


We continued to camp from time to time because it was definitely less expensive than staying in other accommodations, and in theory the outdoor experience was an additional joy of being on holiday. We took our kids camping when they were old enough that they no longer required all the gear that little kids need. They seemed to enjoy it, because, let's face it, mom and dad did all the work and they had all the fun.

All the fun, that is, that can be had on a camping trip, if I may just refresh your memory about how much I did not enjoy it. By this time in my life, I was also starting to find I could not sleep on the ground, even with an air mattress. I would wake up sore and cranky and strangely enough that did not improve my outlook at all.

Within a very few years, though, there came a time when our daughter's health did not allow travel, let alone the physical rigors of camping as accommodation. Needless to say, I didn't miss it. I don't really like to travel in the first place (I live in fervent hope that teleporting will be invented within my lifetime), and it seemed like adding insult to injury to have to travel AND live in a tent, fighting bugs and heat and rain, never getting enough sleep or getting rid of the smell of bug spray and campfire smoke, and using outdoor toilets.

I'm so excited to be able to put all of that into poetry!!!

Warning: It's a veritable ode today. You might want to get some caffeine to stay awake through the whole thing.


What I Did On Summer Vacation

In days of yore, we weren't quite poor
And yet we spent vacations
Crammed inside a flimsy tent
With our closest of relations

We packed our clothes, we were prepared
For what the weather brought
Rain or sun or heat or cold
We packed an awful lot

We packed enough of kitchen stuff
To cook our meals completely
We packed the stuff wot cleans the stuff
All stuffed in boxes neatly

The tent, the pegs, the mallet too
The stove, the sleeping bags
Air mattresses and garbage bags
And wet-clothes bags and zip-loc bags
. . . . . . er, where was I?

Ah, yes . . . the car was full of things
The sky was full of sun
We drove off in a happy mood
Camping! Oh, what Fun!

What fun to drive for hours to find
A spot to pitch our tent
What fun to heat our can of beans
We would have been content . . .

. . . If only there were fewer bugs
And much less of a smell
Inside the old-style wooden shacks
That made up Toilet H***

If only we had brought the things
That didn't make the list
Like pillows, sunscreen, antacids
Those are the things we missed

I wish the ground had not had rocks
The campfire had not smoked
The mattresses had not gone flat
The tent pegs had not broked

It's strange how all these details stayed
So long inside my brain
Good thing I can remember them
I'll never camp again 😉

how my husband described it

how it really looked, which was good, and it smelled good, too

how the outhouses smelled, which was bad

wimpy me (not actually me, just similar facial expression)


Here's hoping your week doesn't stink :)

Do you like to camp? Do you use a tent, or do you go in style? Or, like me, do you prefer to just stay home with your comfy bed and hot and cold running water? Please let me not be the only wimp!

Next week's topic will be ........... MARBLES!

Monday 12 August 2019

Poetry Monday: A Childhood Hero

It's Poetry Monday, and the topic this week is ....... A CHILDHOOD HERO.

Join Delores, MotherOwl, Mimi, Diane, and me as we reveal the heroes of our youth. You are welcome to leave your poem in the comments or post on your own blog; if you do the latter, please leave a note in the comments so we can find you. Use the topic, or choose another -- just have fun with the process and keep your brain humming along.


I pondered the topic all week and just couldn't get inspired, I'm afraid. Despite having a caring family, good adults in my community, and good teachers at school, I didn't think of them as heroes and I didn't want to follow precisely in the footsteps of any of them.

Maybe I'm stubborn, or independent, or just using too narrow a definition of the word "hero".

Maybe they were all heroes.

But my brain continues to be as empty as . . . a bird's nest in December . . . a politician's address to the people . . . a squeezed sponge of water . . . (for more similes, click here)


I'm Ready For My Ten Lashes With A Wet Noodle Now

When I tried to write about a childhood hero
All I came up with was a big fat zero


Knowing I wasn't getting anywhere with the topic, I felt even more reluctant than usual when I thought about Monday approaching.

I'll let these memes drive the point home . . .

And that concludes this edition of Poetry Monday -- whew!

It must be my turn to provide a topic for next week . . . how about CAMPING . . .


Good luck!

Wednesday 7 August 2019

Topic For Next Poetry Monday

Hello, Poetry People!

To be sure we are all on the same page, I wanted to clarify that the topic for next week is A Childhood Hero, suggested by Diane.

I've updated my post for this week to reflect this.

Onward with sharpened pencils -- or shiny keyboards -- we go!

Hopefully I haven't caused you to feel like this . . .

Tuesday 6 August 2019

Poetry Monday on Tuesday: Thunder And Lightning And Rain .......

It's Poetry Monday on Tuesday, and this week's topic is a mouthful:  THUNDER AND LIGHTNING AND RAIN ..... and as Delores added, "OH MY!"

What trouble can we get into with this topic? Come along with Delores, Mimi, Diane (yes! she's back!), and me to find out. (MotherOwl is on summer break at the moment.)

If you have a poem you'd like to contribute, you may leave it in the comments or post it on your own blog. If you do the latter, please leave a comment so we'll know where to find you.

Use the topic or not --- just have fun and exercise your brain cells. Writing poetry is like taking your brain for a jog! (or in my case, a stroll ... but every bit counts)


The phrase "thunder and lightning" has been rolling around in my head since last Poetry Monday, and what kept emerging was a fragment of the lyrics from a very snappy song from 1966, covered and taken to #1 in the U.S. in 1979 by Amii Stewart, called Knock On Wood, which you can hear -- and see -- here.  I thought if I looked up the song on YouTube I might get it out of my head and then proceed with the poetry topic.

I found the video a wee bit cringey at first, because of the gold lame and incessant hip action, but then something happened right at the 2:07 mark, when I began to realize just how talented Amii Stewart and her backup guys were as dancers. They had impressive precision, flexibility, and stamina. Those moves are not easy at that pace.

How would I even begin to know that? Well, the video reminded me of the aerobics classes I took in the 80s, except I wore shorts and T-shirt instead of high heels and yards of gauze like Amii did.

I really liked aerobics. It was similar to Jazzercize and Zumba which came along later, but back then it was a new and different kind of exercise and very much connected with the high energy, beat-driven music of that era. I was in the best shape of my life when I took those classes.

Aaaaaaaand that's when I knew the topic had grabbed me and taken me down a completely different road than I expected.

Join me, then, as I go back to the days when I had one toddler, a slim physique, and a twice-a-week date with twenty or so other ladies and some great rhythmic music to jump and crash around to . . .


Get On Yer Pink Tights And Aqua Bodysuits, Folks

After our toddlers were parked at day care
And after ascending two steep flights of stairs
We ladies would spend forty minutes to sweat
A privilege we paid out good money to get

Most of us worked to get back into shape
After having our babies had made us gain weight
The funniest part -- looking back, anyhow --
Is how skinny I actually was (unlike now)

Led by a boot-camp instructor wannabe
We marched and we kicked and we jumped -- oh did we!
The beat of the music propelled us along
And we felt energized by each high-octane song

A-one and a-two and a-three and a-four
We thundered like rhinos upon that gym floor
A-five and a-six and a-seven and a-eight
Our adrenaline surged, as did every heart rate

I can still hear those songs in the back of my mind
They transport me back to a very good time:
Hall and Oates, Blondie, Donna Summer, and Queen
Dolly and Joan Jett, J. Geils and Irene

In fact, as I sit on my chair, here and now
I'm thinking of how I can get back that "wow"
So excuse me; I'm going to dig up some songs
And head back to the eighties where I think I belong

I didn't dress like this but some did, headband and legwarmers and all


I went off topic again, didn't I? But I did use "thundered" -- did you spot it?

I'm thrilled that Diane has re-joined Poetry Monday -- it was her idea to begin with and Delores and the rest of us were just keeping it going in her absence. The link to her blog is at the beginning of this post. Welcome back, Diane!

And next week's topic, courtesy of Diane, is going to be ............. A CHILDHOOD HERO ................... Good luck! 


Monday 5 August 2019

Poetry Monday: ......... postponed

Due to temporary lack of brain, Poetry Monday at the Procrastinating Donkey blog has been postponed to Tuesday.

Thank you for checking in; here is a consolation prize:

Me and my brain

Until tomorrow . . .