Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, and Kerry has invited everyone (members and non-members alike) to post their writing: something old or something new, probably nothing borrowed, but maybe something blue.
Recently, my intrepid photographer and husband, Richard Schear, has been fending for himself in the kitchen. I'm sure that's why he agreed to renovate the kitchen. We are on entirely different diets, and my bland diet doesn't fit well with his weight-loss one. He is losing weight nicely, by the way, and lookin' good. I'm, well, I'm not well, and I fear I'm becoming very bland.
So, now that he is cooking, I feel safe in resurrecting this oldie I once scribbled on the back of a list of dietary advice from Alberta Health Services. It has rhyme, but no real reason, at least not any more.
one day I coughed up something green
the meanest green I've ever seen
with something of a puce-ish sheen
I thought that I had burst my spleen
I took it to the doctor quick
"look," I said. and she said, "ick"
then mentioned to my husband Dick
"I think your wife is very sick"
"oh no!" said Dick, "oh woe," said he
"now who will cook and clean for me?
and wash my socks and underwear?
what will I do, with no wife there?
this all is more than I can bear
"my mother never taught me cooking
she only aided me in looking
for someone who would do for me
the things which had been done by she"