A glass of wine
a jug of bread
and thee.
i might be drunk.
Month: October 2015
Debate
For the first time in my adult life I’m watching a debate in the company of people who have similar political views. I’m pretty vocal, so it’s gratifying to be around folks who are just as vocal, and perhaps more so, than I am.
Bernie Sanders seems to be a big favorite in this crowd, with Hillary Clinton a close second. Thunderous applause breaks out at their every word. I feel sorry for the remainder of the pack, for hardly any applause at all comes their way.
I have a strong sense of fairness, and it seems as though moderator Anderson Cooper hurries the other debaters along, barely noticing their contributions to the debate; although, to be fair, I’ve had several glasses of wine.
Who will emerge as the debate’s winner? I love Bernie, but I’ll confess, any of these guys would be preferable to anything the Republicans have to offer.
Peace, people!
We Know Them, Right?
the aging blonde hovering
beside a man half her age.
touching, always touching,
insinuating her presence.
her friend, a buxom brunette
hovers nearby, laughing,
competing, vying for the
attention of the alpha male.
the drama is intense; the
laughter raucous. thank
goodness I am the observer
and not the observed.
Poem for my Brother Brent
My youngest brother Brent, or “Brentia” as we used to call him back when we pretended he was a baby sister, was one of only three friends who participated in my first annual “Guess the Arrival Time of the Comcast Cable Installer and Win a Poem in Your Honor” contest.
Amazingly, having given us a window of between 5 and 7 on Saturday evening the cable guy rang our doorbell at 5 p.m., and while none of my guessers came very close to being correct, Brent’s prediction of 6:45 p.m. beat out the others. Brent, I hope you enjoy your poem. I wrote it from the heart. 😉
“Brent’s Poem”
Hey, baby brother
You didn’t know,
but this is true
when you were born
I wasn’t crazy about you.
I was seven;
you were a pain,
too cute for words
while i was plain,
but you grew on me
as the years went by
like moss or mildew
you’re a real fungi.
Love you little brother!
Peace, people!
TMI?
I have a gift when it comes to giving out too much information, a.k.a. TMI. My brain is hollering, “For the love of God, STOP!” while my mouth keeps spouting all the details of my life that are better left untouched, unknown, and uncovered.
In the good and/or bad old days if one gave out TMI it often wasn’t a big deal, unless one happened to be in front of a television audience. The TMI didn’t travel far or for any distance. However, today’s social media makes sharing TMI much too easy and in some ways dangerous.
Take yesterday, for example. My 10-year-old grandaughter started a pet care service. She created a professional looking sign, made copies, and posted them all around her small town Illinois neighborhood. I immediately copied the photo and posted it on my Facebook page. Thank goodness my youngest brother pointed out that it might not be wise to post the phone number of a preteen girl on Facebook, and I promptly deleted it.
Usually, though, my tendency is to provide entirely too much information about myself. Case in point, I typed this post on my iPhone. In the john. Would someone fetch me some t.p.? TMI?
Peace, people!
Birthday Flowers
My birthday flowers,
a thoughtful gift from my son
and his lovely wife,
look as beautiful
today as they did Monday
and smell heavenly.
Thank you Jason and Liz!
Waiting for Breakfast
the most important
meal of the day,
or so i’ve heard,
is the one you’ll
eat upon waking.
who am i to disagree
with waffles and eggs,
pancakes with berries,
and mounds of crisp,
crunchy bacon?
but my favorite spot
has limited seating
and this morning an
incredible queue, i am
already weary of waiting.
Joking with the Pope
Can I get an awoof?
Did you know that Pope Francis has a website on which comedians can share jokes pertaining to religion? Go to jokewiththepope.org and see which of your favorite funny people has contributed a joke to benefit one of several charities.
Peace, people!
Waiting for Mr. Cable Guy
Ah, Saturday afternoon! Post-golf, pre-dinner. Perfect for waiting on the cable guy or girl as the case may be.
Who schedules a cable installation between 5 and 7 p.m. on a Saturday evening? Apparently Comcast does.
So here Studly Doright and I sit on what is usually our night out waiting on a cable installer. I’ll be taking bets on arrival times. Closest guess wins a poem in his/her honor. Hey, I’ve got nothing better to do!
Peace, people!
Skipping Stone
rock among others
indistinctive attributes,
yet describable.
smooth textured pebble
child’s palm-sized, mottled dull brown
weighted, not heavy.
all in the wrist twist
flat bottom skips across lake
two, three, four, five times.
Praying for Eyebrowz 