Instructional

Today’s prompt was to write an instructional poem. This is already day 8 of the April Poem-a-Day challenge. This gets more fun each year. ^_^

How to Raise a Rebel

Dance.
Show up.
Have pets.
Give hugs.
Learn CPR.
Laugh. A lot.
Lead by example.
Unconditional love.
Be their superhero.
Show her museums.
Take them on vacation.
Never talk in baby-talk.
Make him earn that car.
Watch them in the water.
Make her think for herself.
Take time for yourself, too.
Teach him to follow recipes.
Challenge his belief system.
Don’t say, “Because I said so.”
Let her be sad when she’s sad.
Make time for one-on-one time.
Show them how to forgive freely.
Teach him to do his own laundry.
Don’t let her show too much skin.
Punish appropriately to the crime.
Let her pick the music sometimes.
Don’t give him everything he wants.
Give him chores; make him do them.
Make him sign up for teams or clubs.
Hold her when she has a broken heart.
Be willing to compromise occasionally.
Give her extra money if she works for it.
Give an allowance, not based on chores.
They need reasons for things. Give them.
Let him choose his own clothes, crazy or not.
Yes, your teenager has to go on vacation, too.
Never allow the word “hate” to be flung about.
Let them choose their own drinks at McDonalds.
Stand up for him to his teachers, but be realistic.
Have meals together every day, and talk to them.
Know who their friends are. Invite them to dinner.
Listen when they’re talking. It could be important.
Teach them to know what they want and how to get it.
Talk about your past; they need to know you have one.
When you criticize people, they learn to be critical too.
Talk about their future; they need to know they have one.
If you pay her cell phone bill, she has to answer your calls.
Teach her to change her own tire and jump start her battery.
They may complain, but secretly, they want you to be strict.
Take them to the funeral; they need to know that life is finite.
Even if you do everything right, sometimes you fail. Forgive yourself.

Last Line First – November PaD day 16

The prompt today was to use the last line from yesterday’s poem, and make that into a poem. I took the last line, turned it into a title, and ran with it. This was really fun.

Totally Worth It

Pets
Naps
Croup
Picnics
Stitches
Teething
Camping
Old Maid
Bike rides
The circus
Black eyes
Disneyland
Class mom
Science fair
Sleep-overs
Art museum
Chicken pox
Cotton candy
Board games
Potty training
Carnival rides
Science Center
Baking cookies
Bedtime stories
Birthday parties
Movie matinees
Tenth-grade Play
Museum field trip
Dying Easter eggs
First day of school
Christmas morning
Rainy day at the zoo
Break-up heartbreak
Fireworks on the 4th
Principal’s honor roll
Little League baseball
Call from the principal
Fishing at the city park
Jack-o-Lantern carving
Playland at McDonalds
Baking soda volcanoes
Drippy ice cream cones
Singing songs in the car
Children’s puppet theater
Fifth Grade Band Concert
Singing “Happy Brithday”
Saturday morning cartoons
Thanksgiving hand-turkeys
Bring-your-kid-to-work day
Planting a tree on Arbor day
Cardboard tube sword fights
Elementary school Fun Faire
Practicing for the driving test
Stitches at the doctor’s office
Six hour flight with three kids
Set-building at the high school
Holding his hand at the dentist
Handmade Halloween costumes
Finding the funnest park in town
Breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day
Finding the perfect tux/dress for prom
Driving around looking at Christmas lights
Picking them up from their first day at work

Circles II

Another poem came bubbling up, forgive the pun. ^_^

 How to Have Fun 

With a loop, metal or plastic
or even made of pipecleaner,
dip in the soapy water
and blow through the
circular
hole
forming
bubbles.

Sometimes one
giantenormoushumongous
bubble
and sometimes just a few
little ones jumping out,
solitary and staid,
and sometimes
a long skein of bubbles
flying forth in a crazy-long
line, tangling
mixing together and joining/separating
randomly.

The dog will try to bite them,
more serious than playful:
they are his mortal enemy.

The cat will be curious,
of course,
and reach delicately with nose
or paw
and once splattered
will scatter
to a corner to (huffily)
clean the moisture
away.

The children will laugh and giggle
try to catch or pop
or herd
the bubbles,
always begging for more,
more,
or
let me try!!

Matches II

Another poem popped its head up when I was logging out…

 

Playing with Fire

My angry brother-in-law
once found a pile of
spent matches
at my parents’ home
when my sons and I
were house-sitting.

He raged until he discovered
the culprit,
my 16 year old son,
who, like all teens,
had a penchant for
playing with fire.

“This house,”
my brother-in-law raged
“could go up like a torch.”

My son and I exchanged
glances.

“What are you,” he bellowed,
“A kleptomaniac?”

Without laughing,
(one must give him credit
for keeping a straight face)
my son replied,
“I’m sorry, I must be.
I won’t steal any more matches
in the future.”

“Better not.”

“What would we do without you,”
I said, as I smoothly shuffled
my son out of the house
to thank him for not
lighting any more fires
under his uncle.

 

 

Stray Thoughts and Random Ramblings about Travel

I am on my back-up computer (i.e., oooolllld  laptop) instead of my regular one because the regular one stopped working. It is out for repairs. In the meantime, I am trying to use this old one, and I keep getting messages that my disk space is low, and no matter how much I uninstall, I keep getting that message. I’ve deleted everything not necessary for the running of the computer, and still it says it has low disk space. *sigh*

I am going to be in the South this week. Beginning Monday I’ll be in various locales including Charlotte, NC, and Columbia, SC. My son is graduating from the Army! Of course, I’m not looking forward to the predations of the TSA, or to the cramped coach seats the airlines give one. Airline travel sure has changed. They only offer meals if you pay for them now. Once I bought a happy meal on the concourse right before I got on the plane, and I wished I’d gotten a lot more french fries to hand to the people giving me evil looks. But honestly, a happy meal was much more tasty than the dry boxes of crackers and processed cheese and candy that the airlines offer.  And of course, one cannot just bring a PB&J from home anymore because the TSA assumes it’s something terrible rather than just lunch.

I’m looking forward to being in the south even though I know it will be dreadfully humid. I am hoping to put my toes in some salt water at some point. I hear Charleston is beautiful, so I was thinking about going there, and also, Savannah, because that is where Paula Deen’s restaurant is!! I would love to taste her food!!

Myrtle Beach

I have been looking at various attractions in the areas I know I’ll be in, and so far I’ve found an aviation museum, the NASCAR Hall of Fame, and the Mint Museum (in Charlotte) and in Columbia, well, the Army base of course, for family day and for the actual graduation, and I read about a local canoe/kayak rental agency that offers tours of the rivers in Columbia. (Imagine, rivers with WATER in them!!!)*

If any of you’all have any suggestions, please comment and let me know them. I’ll have two “free” days, though the last free day will partly be traveling back to Charlotte to catch the plane home.

I will try to  post pictures, but that may have to wait until I have a better computer. (I know, first world problems, right?)  I’m taking this crap-top with me, so I will at least try to blog my adventures, and (of course) Wednesday Poetry!!

* We live in Arizona — rivers generally don’t have water in them here. Except for the Salt river where people go tubing and stuff, but other than that, no water.

World Kindness Day

And because it is world kindness day, the prompt today is “kindness.” I thought a long time about what I would write about. And decided on one of the biggest mysteries in my life. Who was that man? Why didn’t he allow me to thank him? I thank him here and now, and if a reader recognizes himself, please speak up. Or at least, accept my undying gratitude.

 

Gravity

A young mom

with three young kids

pulls into the station

to put a few bucks

worth of gas

into her barely

running car.

 

All three are buckled in

securely.

She must go pay the cashier.

She puts the car in park,

pulls the emergency

brake. (Does it even work?)

 

She steps away for one

short

moment.

 

Inside the car, little feet,

bored by the waiting,

are kicking.

Kicking at the

gear shift

among other things.

 

And the car slips

into neutral.

And gravity

pulls the

car (the emergency brake

does NOT work!)

down the

slight incline,

picking up speed,

toward the busy

street.

 

From the kiosk,

the mother sees her

babies

rolling toward the street

and runs.

 

Too late, it’s too late

the car is going out

into the street.

 

And a homeless man

(an angel in disguise?)

steps out

into traffic, and turns

the wheel,

allowing the car

to roll to a stop

safely.

 

The mother,

distraught,

runs up and

(thank you, thank you, thank you!)

tries to thank the man

who shrugs off

her gratitude

and shoulders

his pack

and walks

away

leaving four lives

forever changed

by his

kindness.

______ or _______

The prompt today was really difficult for me, but only because there are so very many options to pick from. Choose a phrase using _____ or _____ (i.e., this OR that, high OR low, flat OR fluffy, creamy OR crunchy, ranch OR Italian, etc). It’s always so hard to decide. Anyway, I chose two variations on the theme. Here they are.

 

Paper or Plastic?

We’ve all heard this once or twice
and have opinions on what’s nice
to haul our groceries away.
But I usually bring my own net bags
(and a couple made from t-shirt rags
that have a certain cool cachet)
I do sometimes get funny glances
but really don’t mind taking chances;
I just don’t care what people say.

Paper or plastic?
Neither.

###

Cut or choose?

This is what I
told my kids
when there was only
one
slice
left.

The ultimate
fair solution to
the problem of
two kids
and only one piece left
(of cake or pie or cornbread).

When they first heard,
“He gets to cut it,”
one would beam
and the other groan.
But then I would add,
“But your brother gets to choose
which one he wants.”
And the looks changed
to puzzlement
and torture.

The most even pieces
in the world
(of cake or pie or cornbread)
were produced at my house
when my boys got to
cut or choose.