Geronimo! :: Ode to the Cortisone… :: November

shot in my bum.
I resorted to the doctors
and some modern medicine

My eyes were all swollen
and nearly all shut
what’s a little pain
in my well endowed butt?

I told them my symptoms
I sneezed for good measure
My nose dripped constantly
they brought out the treasure

They said bend on over
So I pulled down my pants
I think at my tatoo
I caught him stealing a glance

The shot was not bad
a small little prick
not a price too high
when feeling so sick

And four children to love
take care of and feed
wipe bottoms and clothe
and tend to each little need

So I type out this ode
in grateful relief
as this morning proves much better
a miracle, my heartfelt belief

My eyes are nearly normal
my nose, beginning to heal
If you’re ever so taken by allergies
Mighty Cortisone’s the deal!

written at the height of allergy season, at the start of September…

Necessary:

And since I wear a crown, I'm going to hold court. About this blogging. I love it. I love writing, or trying to. I love meeting new peeps via the internet. And all the stuff they like to write about. And their pics, even if I've never seen you in person, ever, and probably never will. But here's the poop. I understand that Official Blog Etiquette suggests link for link, comment for comment. To me, this is great in theory, and a lovely goal. If I had 88 hour days. I don't. And if you do, call me. Share the secret. I just can't keep up that pace, and still have time to do what I started this whole thing for in the first place. Creative expression. Working out writing chops. Getting a bit of peace in my chaos called home. And then there's my hubby, and children, and they get kind of cranky when I stay stooped over the computer hour after hour with nary a stick of celery in the fridge and bacteria doing the hokey pokey on my toilets, shouting, "one more blog, just one more blog, so I'll get more traffic!" (me, not the bacteria, they don't usually shout, just sing). Speaking of which, I like, too. (the traffic, not the bacteria). And if I were a hermit, I'd be blogging 24/7, you'd have to get a restraining order. And I'd be drinking wine. But alas, I am no hermit. And I'd have to join Betty Ford. Those paper gowns are not flattering. Point? Please visit, please comment if you feel so moved. I read it all. And if I can, I'll get over to your place. I'd like to. I know there are some (and you know who you are) who can get up earlier, stay up later (and be nice) and who have brilliant schedules to tend to all your blog buddies. I can't even work out a schedule to keep us fed consistantly, so that just ain't happening here. At least, not now. I'll just have to be content to bow at your blogging feet. There, I think I've said my royal piece. Carry on.