Diane Stringam Tolley's Blog: On the Border, page 5

A Word...

 Noah Webster was man most known for brains, notbrawn,And as a lexicographer, he absolutely shone!For he loved words and used them well, for work andthen for play,Why, he gave us the dictionary that we have today.
But when he died, his Miriam, she wanted to takechargeWhen funeral plans were in the works—decided togo large,Many people came. The service wasn’t sad or bleak,And, at the end, she asked if anyone would liketo speak.
A man came up, “I’dlike to say a word if that’s okay.”The widow smiled and then stoodback to let him have his say,The man leaned o’er the stand, and said “Plethora” clearand low,She smiled and said, “That means a lot! Your warmth and fondness shows!”
Another man came up to her, “I,too would like a word!”Again she smiled and then steppedback—again a voice was heard,“Infinity” was what he said.And Miriam almost glowed,Said, “You are very kind, sir!That means more than you can know!”
Then last, a woman joined her there, said, “Ihave aught to say.”Again, the widow stepped aside and let her haveher day,The woman moved up to the stand,“Aorta” was her word,And Miri said, “That warms my heart. I’m awful glad I heard!”
And many more came to the front to say a word ortwo,And Miriam loved everyone and smiled when eachwas through,And finally thanked them for their words, “Myheart is very cheered!I’m happy my sesquipedalian you all revered!”
So when you’re looking something up in Webster’sgreatest feat,Remember just who organized the words, both Sourand Sweet!And if you’re bored, just read it like a book. Bewild and daring,And if you don’t enjoy, don’t fret, 'cause soonyou’ll be past Caring.
Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, we'll reach the highs and lowsDiscussing wise or fun talk shows!









Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)Dictionary (October 16) Today!Talk Shows (October 23)Mischief (October 30)Watermelon (November 6)Grandma's Kitchen (November 13)The Bus (November 20)A Pet's Life (November 27)

Almost True

...that one time when Sally didn't make things worse...
“Look! ‘The ParagonParanormal Society has thoroughly investigated this site and guarantees itsauthenticity’!”“Huh. Who arethey when they’re at home?” I muttered under my breath.Peter and Dadlaughed.Mort was nowhopping from foot to foot, obviously excited.Or he had to goto the bathroom.I gazed up atthe creepy-looking three-storey house and shivered. If they had a bathroom…The five of usstarted up the great front stairs to the doorway.They creaked‘authentically’.So far so good.“Oh, look atthat! A spider! Whoda thought?” Sally poked at alarge, furry brown member of the species in itsrather spectacular web.It curled itslegs up, then scurried away from her.“Oh. It’s real.My bad.”Just then, agust of wind blew over the porch, tossing Sally’s and my hair and almostclaiming Dad’s ball cap.He opened thedoor—another realistic creak—and we went inside.“Welcome!” Asolemn voice called out. “Please join the group. We’ll be getting startedsoon!”The five of ushovered near the door, allowing our eyes to adjust to the gloom. Finally, I wasable to make out a large, square room, with a stairway directly in front of me,great shelves filled with…gee-gaws…on all the walls, and a rathermundane-looking reception counter to the right. The voice seemed to have comefrom there.A group of 8 or10 people were gathered/huddled beside the stairway. Some of them were, likeMort, excited.The rest seemedmore like me.We gatheredwith them.A moment or twolater, a tall figure emerged from behind the counter and approached us—finallycoalescing into a young man.Wearing a heavycowl.Okay. Creepy.“Welcome toDell House,” the young man said. “I’m Night and I’ll be your guide thisafternoon.”His voice wasdeep and sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.I shivered. Ofcourse his name was ‘Night’.“First, awarning. Dell House spirits are capricious and unpredictable. They can appearat any time and have been known to ‘attack’ in numerous ways. Blasts of wind.Falling items and pictures. So please be alert. Best to stay away from walls atall times. And hang onto each other.”A timid hand slowlyrose on the far side of the group. “Ex-cuse me?” a faint voice said.Night turnedtoward them. “Yes?”“Is it quitesafe?”“Well…no onehas died here. Well…apart from the spirits.” Night’s laugh was, like him,weird. “Stay together and let’s go.”“Do you have ahistory of this place?” Dad asked, falling into step beside our guide.A long-fingeredhand dipped into some hidden pocket in Night’s robes and emerged with a handfulof pamphlets. “Our history is written here.” He handed one to Dad.“Thanks.” Dadfell back with the rest of us, squinting as he tried to read in the ratherinadequate light.Suddenly, ablast of wind, similar to the one we had felt outside, tore the paper from hishands.“Hey!” Dad madea spectacular, but futile effort to catch it. Then he glared as the paper rosenearly to the ceiling two floors above us.Night silentlyhanded Dad a second pamphlet. “That happens a lot,” the young man said.Dad looked atme. “I’m beginning to believe the reports,” he whispered.I gigglednervously.Night took usup the main staircase.By this point,everyone in the group was clinging desperately to someone else.My bunch wasn’tany different. I had linked arms with both Dad and Peter and I saw Mort grabSally’s hand.One man aheadof me was gripping the heavily-carved bannister. Suddenly, he jerked his handaway. “It’s hot!” he said.“Oh, yeah.That’ll happen, too,” Night said. “Careful.”We had justreached the top of the stairs when a stream of water came out of nowhere andstruck Mort in the chest.“Hey!” heshouted, ducking to one side and brushing hastily at his shirt, now drippingwet.Night pausedand looked at him. “Capricious and unpredictable.”“Maybe youshould give us an idea of what more we can expect,” Dad said.What can I say.He’s an ex-marine, but the urge to plan and execute remains strong.Night looked athim and shrugged. “We don’t know, sir. It’s never the same twice.”Dad looked atme and Peter. I tightened my hold on both of them.We were guidedalong a wide hallway, hung with a dozen or more massive portraits.“The familythrough the generations,” Night said.Man, this guywasn’t about to waste breath explaining anything!As we werepassing one picture of a young girl and her beribboned pet goat, the picturesuddenly just…dropped, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.Someoneshrieked and everyone huddled closer together in the center of the hallway.Okay, I knewwhy Night had advised us to stay away from the walls.We continueddown the hall.Doors slammedopen, then shut.Light fixtures swayedalarmingly.Soft, strange music played. It would grow for a moment, then die.And I’m prettysure I saw a translucent figure sail across the hall and into the wall justahead of us.“Did you seethat?” I managed to gasp.Dad and Peter’seyes were on the same spot.“I did,” theysaid together. They looked at each other.“Keep up,” Nightsaid.We hurried tocatch the others.Throughout allthis, Mort and Sally were uncharacteristically silent. I kept glancing back tomake sure they were still with us.Sally seemedcalm, but Mort’s eyes were bigger than dinner plates as he swiveled to watcheverything.Night led usinto bedrooms, where rugs rolled themselves up and dresser drawers made astaccato sound as they moved in and out. Blinds snapped up and curtains slidback and forth across the rods.Bedclothes weretossed about.A pillow sailedpast. Dad ducked, but I wasn’t as fortunate.The resultingcloud of dust made me sneeze repeatedly.It was hard toknow how to react or where to look first.As we made ourway back into the hallway from one of the bedrooms, Peter leaned close andwhispered in my ear, “Even if this is all fake, it’s pretty spectacular!”Just as thewords left his lips, another wind blast tore through—this time seeming totarget him. It nearly pulled him free from my grip.Our holdtightened.The tourcontinued...We couldn’thave been in that house for more than half an hour, but it seemed days. Everyfloor and room sported some new and startling event.My fingers werejust beginning to grow slightly numb from Peter and Dad’s crushing grip when Nightfinally steered us back to the main staircase.We descendedit, relief writ large on every face in the group as we spied our escape.Night stoppedat the bottom of the stairs, halting the group. Then he looked up at us. “We,the spirits of Dell House hope you enjoyed your visit. Do tell your friends andneighbours. And come back yourselves. If you dare.”With thosewords, he suddenly…disappeared.I am not makingthis up. He disappeared. His cloak was suddenly—empty. It dropped to the floorin a heap of cloth.We stared,aghast.One womanfainted.But Sally ismade of sterner stuff.“Cool!” shesaid. “Let’s go again!”
Use Your Words is a writing challenge!Each month, I exchange words with my friend and intrepid leader, Karen of Baking in a Tornado Neither of us knows what the other will do with her words.This month, Karen gave me: ghost ~ grow ~ brown ~ spider ~ soft Thank you, my friend!Now go see what Karen did with my words!BakingIn ATornado

 

 

Where Laughter Comes From...

I must admit, I started small,

When mama chased me down the hall,

And made me giggle wildly,

With threats of tickles as I’d flee.

From there, I moved to Daddy’s jokes,

When entertaining mealtime folks,

Or when, the wide prairies, we rode,

And he was in his joking mode.

And then my siblings took it on,

To laughter, all we six were drawn,

And we’d quote ‘Mad’ and ‘Cowpokes’ jests,

And try to outdo all the rest.

And when I married, Husby Dear,

Worked hard to fill my days with cheer,

And he did well, my better half,

His goal was always “Make her laugh”.

Then our kids, too, got in the game,

That ‘laughter’ goal remained the same,

And they’d tell tales, quote movies, songs,

To keep the merriment going strong.

My grandkids now are starting out,

I guess there couldn’t be much doubt,

That they’d pick up the ‘laughter’ gene,

And see which one would reign supreme.

Now I have given lots of thought

To what is funny. What is not,

Don't need to plot with charts and graphs . . .

'Cause it's my FAMILY makes me laugh.
Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week might be more complex...Cause DICTIONARY's in the text!









Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)Family (October 9) Today!Dictionary (October 16)Talk Shows (October 23)Mischief (October 30)Watermelon (November 6)Grandma's Kitchen (November 13)The Bus (November 20)A Pet's Life (November 27)

A Birthday Suit

This was Daddy's favourite story.And because it's MY birthday...
For years, she worked untiringly

In times of calm, or urgency,

In office work, traditional,

Her business place so integral.

Her husband was so proud of her,

His sweet, but strong entrepreneur,

So, for her birthday, he’d reward

The lovely woman he adored.

And straightway took her to the store

To blow all he did budget for,

For something pretty she could wear,

Unmatched by all who might compare.

And so received from her dear spouse

A lovely suit, with silky blouse.

A gorgeous jacket: shade of blue,

A pleated skirt of matching hue.

Then marched herself to work that day,

Receiving greetings on the way,

Confident in how she looked,

As pretty as a picture . . . book.

Her boss was in when she got there,

She checked her image with due care,

Then to his office, she did trot,

To show the suit her husband bought.

But just as she had stepped inside,

A customer with needs, applied

For entrance to their workplace there,

The boss sprang up from his wing chair.

“So sorry that I made you wait,

(Today my girl’s a fashion plate),

But she was looking oh-so-cute,

When showing me her birthday suit!”  allfinds.org






Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, Family's the theme,Come join us, we'll be a team!









Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)Birthdays (October 2) Today!Family (October 9)Dictionary (October 16)Talk Shows (October 23)Mischief (October 30)Watermelon (November 6)Grandma's Kitchen (November 13)The Bus (November 20)A Pet's Life (November 27)

The Texting Test

I’ve hada few now in my life,Some arehappy. Some cause strife,Most aremerely info passed,Withsomething someone wants broadcast,A quick, efficientway to snoop,By askingquestions in your group,I’m sureyou’ve guessed by now, my friendsI’mtalking ‘bout the texts we send…Myson-in-law first showed me how,Soon chattingwas the cat’s meow,So easyjust to type, then send,No timeon “How are you’s” to spend,Just tothe meat and then it’s done,Ofconversation, there is none,Don’t getme wrong, I like to talk,While wesit, or take a walk,Butsometimes all you need’s a phrase,To informor to liaise…But I’llstop there, you’ve had enough,I’ll getto more important stuff,Thequestion asked, I’ll answer nextWhat hasbeen my favourite text?There’vebeen so many, long and short,Some makemy cry, some make me snort,Yes, Iwould have to say that’s hard,Perhaps I’llleave it to The Bard,For ‘brief’and ‘clever’ are a hit,And: ‘Brevityis the soul of wit!’

Karen asks, "Write for me, please?"We write because we like to please!And we love her, you know that’s true,So this is what we writers do . . .We craft a poem based on a theme,With pencils, sharp, and eyes agleam,Each month we write and have such funWe can't wait for another one,With TEXTS this month, how did I do?Please go and see the others, too:Baking In A TornadoMessymimi’sMeanderings

 

Banff 2023

Ugh. Not these pants!

For over 30 years, the last week ofAugust is our family’s holiday time in Banff.We move into our timeshare unit withthe smooth familiarity of many, many years.Everything is familiar.Then the memories close comfortablyin around us.Our kids learning to swim in thatpool.Hiking the trails until theyseemed like old friends.Picnicking.Shopping and talking and playinggames.Eating ice cream and BeaverTails.Playing some more games.Watching movies together.Biking.In a word: Paradise.30+ years makes for a lot ofmemories!This year, our eldest son and hisfamily were there with Grampa and Gramma.They had a unit of their ownright next door. So, we did what any family would do—moved their table into ourapartment and with ours, used our front room
as the community dining hall.Allowing his family ofeight-plus-one to spread out in their sleeping arrangements.It was glorious! All meals wereeaten together, and Gramma was in heaven.But, as with any situation wherea lot of people are co-habiting, there was the occasional…bump.Six-year-old Granddaughter wasfeeling the stress of a lot of people in the near vicinity and woke up onemorning (as my mother used to say) on the wrong side of the bed.Her mother was trying to help herdress for the day and the topic of choice was the reason why she couldn’t wearthe same pants she had been wearing for the previous two days.Mom: “Why don’t you wear thesepants instead?”6YO: “I don't like those pants!”Mom: “Then why did you pack them?”6YO (Loudly): “I didn't!! Dad packed them because he called me and I wouldn'tcome!!!”Sometimes the truth just sort of…spillsout.Hilariously.
Some more pictures: Forest Wood Elf
The Crew
Our Newlyweds
More elves...
We do love our biking!
The gardens

Dreamt Up

 Acertain woman had a dream,(It happensquite a lot, it seems,)Butthis one happened just before,Her ann’versarycame in the door,Now,in this dream her Husby gave,Abox to her. And she did raveEnthusiasticallyfor a time,Shethought that it was so sublime,She peeledthe wrapping all aside…Andfound another box inside.Thisone, too, she opened fast…Then found another, not the last.Thiswent on for quite a while,Asbox-by-box, she made a pile.Thenfinally, in the last, she found,Adiamond ring, with gold all crowned.Sheput it on, admired it,Thenpraised her husband for his wit…Whenshe awoke, she hurried toTellher Husby all she knewAbouther dream, with hints galore,ThenHusby headed for the store!Thenext day was the special one,Andhe said, “For my Honey-Bun.”Thenhanded her a gift-wrapped box,Toobig for underwear or socks,Shegave him back a great big grin,Thentook the box and started inUnwrappingrather frenziedly,Won’dringjust what it could be!HadHusby really paid some mind,Toall that she, his wife, outlined?Whenshe got the wrapping off,Anotherbox remained to doff,Andunder that one, several more,Oh,what could possibly be in store?Hereagerness reached fever pitch,Andher eye began to twitch,Asbox-by-box, she worked down to,Thefinal box. Oh, what a coup!She knew the last one she had reached,Thefinal wrap at long last breached...Therewas no ring. Instead, it seemsThebook, ‘How to Interpret Dreams’.
Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, just because it's mine,We'll talk of Birthdays for a time

Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)Dreams (September 25) Today!Birthdays (October 2)Family (October 9)Dictionary (October 16)Talk Shows (October 23)Mischief (October 30)Watermelon (November 6)Grandma's Kitchen (November 13)The Bus (November 20)A Pet's Life (November 27)

My Unknown Adventure

Another memory from Little Brother, Blair!
Speaking of that summer in the Quonset...Okay, Idon’t remember this...My dadtold me about it after it happened.In orderto explain just what happened, I have to provide a bit of background...When Iwas young, not having the ‘walk-around-in-the-dark superpower’, like my littlesister did, I was afraid of said dark.Needlessto say, I liked my night light.Also: WhenI went to bed at night, I would hide under the covers.Mom toldme that it was not healthy to cover my head so I had devised a special way ofarranging my bed covers so that I could snuggle down and still have a tunnelthat provided ample air to breathe.Enoughexposition…
In thesummer of 1968, my family moved from our house on the ranch to a quonset on anacreage just outside the town of Milk River.Dadplanned to use the acreage as the headquarters for the ranch and hisveterinarian practice.A newhouse was being built on the property, but it was going to be at least 3 monthsbefore it was completed. Thus, the quonset.For the“summer”.It was agreat adventure. Like camping, except, I got to sleep in my own comfortable bed.The quonsetwas huge—and open—so dad strategically placed the large moving boxes so that wehad our own bedrooms.We alsohad living room and kitchen areas.I can’tremember what we did for showers. I guess I was at the age where that wasn’tvery important.I had myvery own bedroom space with my dresser and bed. I really liked it except therewas no power.And nonight light.Iregularly buried myself under my covers when I went to bed at night.  It was a cold summer and mom made sure we allhad lots of blankets to keep us warm.This nextslice of this story is the part I don’t remember.I am recitingfrom what dad told me...Oneevening, my parents went out on a date night. According to Dad, they had alovely time. Forgetting for a short period that they even had any kids. (Okay,that’s my input…)Thenreturned to our quonset home.It wasafter our bedtime, so they did the rounds of all the kids to see that we weresettled in our beds.Everyonewas sound asleep, except me.I wasnowhere to be found.Quickly,they searched everywhere in the Quonset. No corner, empty box, or piece offurniture was left unchecked. They even did a quick search of the area immediatelyaround the Quonset.Nope. No me.I’m quitesure both of them were remembering the animal with the spooky growl my mom had hearda few nights earlier and thinking it had snagged me, perhaps during a midnightpotty run.They wereterribly worried and decided to call the police.Justbefore they made the call, for some reason, Dad walked into my bedroom spaceand sat in the chair that faced my bed. He was terribly worried and trying tothink if there was somewhere I might be.As he satin the chair and looked over at the pile of blankets on my bed, he suddenly gotthe thought that he should pull them back a little.Which hedid.There Iwas, right there, asleep. Blissfully unaware that I had been missed by anyone.Well,unaware until the following day when Dad told me.Oops.By theway, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore.Though Idid go through a period of fearing to walk through my house in the dark unlessI shuffled.Because…Lego.Need Isay more?

Hickory Dickory's Clock Dock

From the “What-on-earth-was-that-in-aid-of?’files…Okay. How many of thosereading haven’t heard of Hickory DickoryDock?Yep. I thought so.
I recited/sang it adinfinitum/ad nauseam when I was a youngster.I kid you not.I loved it!Even though I reallycouldn’t understand it.
We’re talking about alittle mouse running repeatedly up a clock, then, when said clock strikes thehours of: one, two, three, etc., the mouse runs down.
First of all, doesn’t thatmouse have anything better to do? I mean I’ve heard of clock-watching, but isn’tthis taking it to a whole new level?
And there’s the ‘repeatingan action and expecting a different result’.Isn’t that the verydefinition of insanity?Well that was myunderstanding.What are your thoughts?
Yes, I know it’s a mouse.And yes, I know they have very small brains and really can’t be heldaccountable for their actions.Pretty poor excuse.
And what is it hoping tofind at the clock top? A spectacular view?Because, let’s face it, ifthe views aren’t stellar, I’m not climbing anything!
And a view would have tobe truly spectacular to tempt one to at-tempt a possibly perilous and certainlysweaty and laborious climb more than once! Right?
I just had a thought. Micewill go almost anywhere if there’s food involved. (I am totally with them onthis…) What if there’s food up there?
I mean, what if that’swhere the clock keeps his lunch?Go with me on this.It would be safe (well,discounting the whole ‘recurring mouse’ erm…thingy.)
Think about it. Mr. H D Clockassumes (reasonably) that, barring someone actually seeing him put his lunchthere, no one would ever guess. Makes total sense.
Okay, okay. Clocks don’t packa lunch. And they’d certainly be frowned upon if they ever stopped to actually…youknow…eat.And then the lack ofinternal organs.
So we’re stuck with alittle mouse who decides every hour (on the hour) to run up a clock. Then,frightened by the chimes, runs down again.
I think we need a do-over(Oops. Not a 27!):
Hickory Dickory Dock,Two Mice ran up the clock.The clock struck one.The other ran away…I admit, I’m totally withthe clock on this one.
Seriously:The rhyme is thought tohave originated as a counting-out rhyme. Cumbric shepherds in thenineteenth century used the numbers Hevera (8), Devera (9)and Dick (10).
Also:The Exeter Cathedral astronomicalclock has a small hole in the door below the face for the resident cat tohunt mice.Take that, Mr. Mouse!
Today’s post is a word challenge! Each month Karen, Mimi or I choose a number between 12 and 50 and the others craft a post using that number of words one or multiple times.This month’s number is: 27It was chosen by Karen of Baking in a Tornado!
Now go and see what my friends have created!
Baking In ATornadoMessymimi’sMeanderings

Cheap Cheeseburgers!

 My Husby and me had six kids, I lovethem all, it’s true,Thoughlife when all were still at home, was something of a zoo!And mealtimes were a challenge, you know there was quite a price,To feeding all those tummies something more than beans and rice!
But somehow, we succeeded and, yes, each of them was fed,With soups and stews and roasted meatsand treats and fresh-baked bread,And as they grew, so did our bill,the cost near had us broke!Our eldest two ate just as much asall our other folk.
One day—I don’t know how—but Husbygot some coupons forMcDonald’s. Yes, the fast-foodplace. The kids thought they’d exploreThis place they didn’t get to much,we just could not affordTheir ‘magic’ burgers, plain or ‘cheese’that all our kids adored.
And so we went and ‘ordered up’, ourkids were really keen,And when the food arrived, t’wasmore than they had ever seen,A pile of burgers, neatly wrapped,and all were fresh and hot,Some included melted cheese and someof them did not.
I can tell you, on that day, ourkids all ate their fill,Of hamburgers and cheeseburgers…withouta crazy bill!And as they downed those tasty toastiesby the bucketful,For the first time, ever, eldestsons said they were full.
It didn’t happen often, leastwaysnot when we were out,That those two boys were satisfiedenough to laugh and shout,But laugh and shout, they did, and whenthey’d all joined in the fun…They thanked their dad mostgraciously for everything he’d done.
I don’t expect a lot, I don’t. Itreally’s no concern,I don’t need fancies, don’t need ‘stuff’,for nothing do I yearn,What memory, do I have now that fillsme with such joy?That time we hit McDonald’s and, atlast, I filled my boys!
Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.comCause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So  Karen , Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week time for some extremes!
We will all be talking 'bout our dreams!

Thinking of joining us for Poetry Monday?We'd love to welcome you!
Topics for the next few weeks (with a huge thank-you to Mimi, who comes up with so many of them!)Cheeseburgers (September 18) Today!Dreams (September 25)Birthdays (October 2)Family (October 9)Dictionary (October 16)Talk Shows (October 23)Mischief (October 30)Watermelon (November 6)Grandma's Kitchen (November 13)The Bus (November 20)A Pet's Life (November 27)