Chesterton and Friends
a misconception mends:
That prose or poetry from an era long past
Nothing to do with the present hast.
My sister, who is literally half the woman she used to be, sends me an email complaining about feeling left out. My goodness, people, I really did have to run a household here yesterday! She sent her own clerihew:
Had only one bane.
These last fifteen pounds
As bad as that sounds.
Please feel free to write your own, about yourself or someone else, and post it here.
For me, though, it’s back to the grindstone. Bill is back at work, and we will return to school, shrugging off the undisciplined ways of the last month to engage our minds in pursuits such as solving for x and maybe, just maybe, figuring out that H-A-T is the word hat and other intellectual endeavors between those.
Bill didn’t “get” the Ted Hughes clerihew – the original thing this morning that got me going. Anyone else lost on that? I’d really hate it if your English lit classes didn’t fill you in on some of grittier details of the life, and most importantly, the death, of mentally-unhinged poet, Sylvia Plath.
Laura the Crazy Mama
has never ridden on a llama.
Her latest post is quite the rant,
But argue with it, I most certainly can’t.
Barb – SFO Mom
could be known as “da Bomb.”
Little Brother, she allows him his own clothes to pick,
And for her older kid’s Halloween parties she made snot-on-a-stick.
Sarah the Snoring Scholar
works for a man with a collar.
Husband and Toddler-tron she loves the most.
And Catholic Carnival she often will host.
has her hands full.
She considers herself Blessed Among Men.
But that Nicholas, she should put in a pen.