SoCS March 31, 2018

Hot cross buns–my mom used to make every year at Easter time. They were delicious yeast rolls with cinnamon and either raisins or currants or both. The white frosting for the cross on top was sweet and yummy. My mom made everything we ate. There were no 7-Eleven convenience stores where you could purchase something quickly. Our dairy farm and garden provided the ingredients for most everything we consumed.

Hot cross buns had the white cross symbol every Easter to celebrate Jesus Christ rising from the tomb. At least that’s how I remember it. I’ve heard it was for Good Friday and a symbol of the crucifixion. There are a few myths as to their origin and meaning. We just looked forward to them as a treat about once a year. We didn’t have symbols of Jesus on the cross and our church didn’t either. I think my mom, being the religious one in the family, preferred the empty cross symbol instead. Of course I prefer it too because it is my belief that we do not come into this world sinners. It’s a long story, and long controversial discussion I’m not about to go into. Regardless of any beliefs, I hope you all have a nice weekend!

We did sing this song as children: “hot cross buns, hot cross buns, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.”.

https://wp.me/p2CQXv-2MV

Putting My Feet in the Dirt 29

Moaning Myrtle

Loved a turtle

Not good form

Hardly norm

But she in love, made her smile

This wily, dodgy, old reptile

She spotted him one fine day

By the water as she played

His rounded form on display

His other parts hidden away.

Myrtle was instantly enamored

By this being heavily armored

She seemed to see beneath the shell

And thinking he was swell

Took him home, but sorry to tell

He ended up in a well.

Myrtle’s mother did not approve

Thought loving turtles rather crude

Then she threw him down the tube.

Myrtle thought it all quite rude

Now she spends time looking down

Hopes her lover did not drown.

March Writing Prompts

Daily Prompt: Frantic

Because of my near tragic antic

As I looked back I started to panic

Thinking more, tried not to be frantic

But it’s over now, so all is semantics.

〰

I was sweeping the floor

A tiresome chore

When leaning too far

Set my wheelchair ajar.

Suddenly finding my butt in midair

Dropped the utensils and grabbed for the chair

Dust in the pan started to fly

Broom handle barely missed my eye

But saved myself from an accident

Legs started shaking in repent.

〰

As I sat back and started to ponder

I could have been hurt, and wondered

How stupid to not feel I was slipping

Chores are no reason for a mind to be tripping

I just leaned too far, won’t do it again

Of course I probably will, is it my zen?

Reminded me of a similar time

When my safety was not on my mind

Resulted in an overturn flip

Ended up with a hospital trip.

〰

Hospitals, oh I could write a book

They place you in a little nook

Tubes and lines up to you they hook

Forget about how horrid you look

Of course they seem to mean well

Handsome doctors are quite swell

Privacy is another issue

If in the restroom you need tissue

And then there’s the worst I dread

The devil-made hospital bed!

Plastic coated mattress from hell

Unusual humps, with uncomfortable swells

And don’t forget those monitor beeps

Going off when you’re trying to sleep

I finally learned how to fix it myself

Bed fixed so can’t reach anything on the shelf

Constant blood draws, tubes here and there

And the opened clothing they make you wear

Guess you surmise by this report

Not going back, I’d rather be morte!

〰

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/frantic/

MLMM Photo Challenge 207

Lock up your heart

Don’t keep it open

Lock it for sure

Don’t keep hoping

Dreams were fine

One at a time

But all in your life?

It’s too many doors

You’ve opened to find

Life inside not as sublime

As you thought

As you guessed

Now it’s only a mess

Of locks that are pressed

Closed.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/03/27/photo-challenge-207/

Three Line Tales 113

The ambulance was on its way, I can see the lights in the distance. It will only be a few minutes til they save him. Of course, it wasn’t that bad. I only nudged him with my car.

If they find me, if anyone saw, if anyone can describe my car, or took the license plate, if they find me, what will happen? I hope he’s all right. It couldn’t have been too bad. Do they trace 911 calls? Will they know it was me?

Sitting in her vehicle, watching from a safe distance, justifying, “it was only one drink”.

Three Line Tales, Week 113

100 Word Wednesday 64

Lighting the torch, he steps into the cave. The first thing he noticed was the unpleasant smell. Years of infestation by a bat colony and their leavings known as guano, was so overpowering, his eyes started to water. But it was the only thing she asked of him, and he did love her so, what could he do?

Joe looked up, seeing the bats, hoping not to disturb them. He got his gear from outside the cave, a shovel and wheelbarrow. Her garden would be especially green this year. He just hoped she didn’t think guano tea was for drinking.

100 Word Wednesday: Week 64

Trippin’…Over a Root

I can’t stop laughing at this, so clever, true and hilarious. Thanks, cigarman!

cigarman501's avatarRavings of a Mad Southerner

At exactly one point three-three miles into my workout, according to my GPS app, I kicked a freakin’ root.  I wasn’t paying attention to the rock and root strewed path…I was paying attention to a half-dozen Canadian geese who were stopping by from…Canada?  When they landed I watched and tripped over the root banging my arthritic toe.  The geese didn’t stay long, instead, they took off to another part of the lake.  It might have been the loud cursing erupting from my mouth.

As I hobbled on and gazed heavenward contemplating my pain and the distance my expletives might have traveled heavenward, I kicked another root.  Same foot, same big toe…the big toe I’m trying put off surgery on until winter comes around again and I am worthless…ah, more worthless.

The second kick was even more solid than the first.  Mortar Forker!  This time I bent over, hands on knees…

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Ramblingsofawriter2016 Weekly Poetry Challenge

Hot fudge, I heard it said

Two words that mess with my head

Dark, warm, and oh so gooey

Makes a restricted diet go flooey

But then, I think it’s probably worth it

Irresistible, I must deserve it

After all I’ve been very good

Eating everything I should

I sneak onto the barstool where

The ice cream server’s standing there

I’ll take a hot fudge sundae, please

Nuts and a cherry, he asks

Ready to complete his task

No thanks I’ll just take it “neat”

And then devoured it with ease.

#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 90 – Temptations & Relapse

https://wp.me/p75CwL-amS