cook / quartermaster

: )

How lucky am I to have such a wonderful and creative and silly and sweet wifey (who's also quite a looker) ... Very lucky and very blessed!

Day #12: Drummers Drumming

(Another haiku)

Yours: Radiohead.

Mine: Dido. Different drums, but

Perfect harmony.

Happy Three Kings’ Day, Brice! You’re the best.*

*Please note that I had to copy and paste in the smart quotes because the cursed composer doesn’t automatically create them. 
*Please also note that after typing this, I had a very long debate with myself and Google over whether it really needed an apostrophe at all. The jury is still out, but I'm leaning toward none. Argh. (Granted, I could just fix it, but where would be the fun in that?)
*Please also also note that the previous note has a straight quote, but I'm tired of fixing them and then fixing the font and blah blah blah. So we shall just ignore it and call it artistic.

Day #11: Pipers Piping*

(Terza rima)

“Hey, dude. This is pretty gnarly. It’s like, whoa.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s like way awesome, don’t you think?”

“Whoa, dude. I like it, but it’s like, I dunno—

I think maybe I need to have a big drink.

Or maybe I’m just hungry for lots of food.

It’s hard to tell. … Hey, when did your face turn pink?”

“I think you’re a little bit confused there, dude.

If anything, my face is more a purple.

But hey, man, don’t worry. ‘Cause, like, it’s all gooooood.”

“Hold on! Dang it, dude. Nothing rhymes with purple.”

“Hmmm… Whoops.”

*The song never mentions just exactly what the pipers were piping.

Day #10: Lords a-Leaping

I think this "poem" would be more impressive if it had been drawn by my four-year-old. Or, I dunno, a monkey.

Day #9: Ladies Dancing (and absolutely no bad poetry! hooray!)

Today poetic form vastly fails to inspire me (as opposed to all those other days on which I am a veritable poet laureate… no, really, haven’t you noticed yet?). I shall, instead, mention this: my favorite “ladies dancing” are my daughters.

Coriel seems to be a little confused about weddings. I blame Disney. She gets that she should marry a nice young man in the temple for all eternity, but she seems to think the only other necessary element is a dance.

“Will you marry me, prince?” she says to her daddy (or sometimes me).

“Yes, of course I will marry you, princess!”

“Let’s dance.” Then they hold hands and swing around in a couple of circles. “Okay, we’re married!” she says with delight, and she gives him a hug and says, “I love you.”

Addra, on the other hand, is still a bit too little to dance of her own accord (although some of her staggering around does look rather orchestrated, and she is inclined to be quite musical). But her daddy picks her up and swings her around until she squeals with delight. And sometimes he plays music on his phone and they waltz around the room (he also waltzes her to sleep not infrequently!). She loves it.

I have the great blessing of getting to be the observer of these moments. I see the love shining in my daughters’ eyes when they look at their daddy, and see his love for them shining back. Pretty much there’s a lot of shininess going on.

Day #8: Maids a-Milking

(An epic)

Oh listen ye now to the epic,

and extremely, epically extensive, epic tale

of the maids a-milking midst a murky meadowful of cows.

Wo wo wo for those wenches with white woolly aprons!

Doom, despair, destruction, and gumdrops!

Gruesome and grisly and gory is my tale.

Tragic and travailly and torment-ful.

Doom, despair, destruction, and gumdrops!

(Sadly, the rest of this tale is lost to time. These few words are all that remain of a fragment of parchment that predates even Beowulf. Yes, it’s one of the great academic tragedies of our time that the tale of the maids a-milking is now lost to history. High school students around the English-speaking world, however, rejoice.)*

*Academics, on the other hand, are thrilled by this incontrovertible evidence of the early existence of gumdrops.