Tag Archives: humour

Puddle Jumper

I can leap tall buildings,

With a single bound.

All the while keeping,

My feet on the ground.

 

With a switch and a swirl,

The world disappears.

Wait just a moment,

And it all reappears.

 

Trusty old rain boots,

Keep my feet warm and dry.

As this silly old girl,

Likes to stomp on the sky.

 

The rain leaves a world,

Just at my feet.

Another dimension,

New marvels to meet.

 

A child’s imagination,

Is a joy to behold.

In a simple old puddle,

More wonders unfold.

 

When the rain leaves a gift,

Don’t ever walk by.

Take just a moment,

And let logic defy.

 

 

The accompanying photograph was provided by Dan over at nofacilities.com. He and Maddie are most generous with the fruits of their walks. Thanks Dan!

 

 

 

Two Bison

Two bison ran me down,

I swear it’s really true.

Walking down the street,

What was I to do?

 

Minding my own business,

My face towards the sun.

Nothing really on my mind,

But looking for some fun.

 

The land began to rumble,

And then a growling sound.

Barely seconds passed,

And I was on the ground!

 

I heard a raucous laughter,

Coming from those beasts!

But I am kissing pavement,

And praying for some priests!

 

I raised my head a tiny bit,

To see what I could see.

Imagine my surprise,

When there was really three!

 

Juvenile delinquents,

Racing without a care.

Prepubescent miscreants,

On skateboards for a dare.

 

I raised my fist in anger,

At the injustice of it all.

I’m too old to ride a board,

But damn, I can recall!

 

 

(the image is from hww.ca)

 

I want to be an ‘ism’

My posts of the last few weeks have been relatively heavy. And I wanted something different. Our world is in chaos, there is hatred and misunderstanding rampant in our cities and streets. People are confused and frightened and unsure. It is not a great recipe for humour.  So, I went out on the street looking for some. What I saw was people adhering to social distancing and many wearing masks. Very few would catch my eye.  A few did nod but there was no smile in their eyes and they turned away quickly. I have not walked the streets in 15 months and I am saddened. So, I decided to do what any self-respecting writer would and reuse something I have written earlier.

I was in a particularly silly mood when I wrote this in 2015 and I will admit it still touches my funny bone. I hope it does yours. May I share with you:

I want to be an ‘ism’

Think about it. ‘Isms’ have thousands if not millions who believe in them.  Everyone knows at least a couple of witticisms. Some people believe them so much they live their lives according to their wisdom. Volunteerism is regarded throughout the world as one of the better things human beings do. Millions of people love ventriloquism and so many are very much into vegetarianism.

There is tourism and synergism, survivalism and cannibalism.  Oh, wait, not that one!  Here’s a good one:   heroism! Yes, that’s better. Whew! How about absurdism or activism? Altruism and realism. Yes, I want to be an ‘ism’.  My daily quips could become Qu-isms! Isn’t that kind of cool? Cosmopolitanism or Cubism, eroticism, antidisestablishmentarianism. Now that’s a mouthful!

While I was wandering around looking up ideas for ‘ism’  I discovered that there are a lot of fun silly words that use that suffix. I also discovered some heinous, horrible words. Like plagiarism or narcissism or racism and terrorism. These are definitely words I do not want to have any contact with. As horrible as these issues are, we must never dismiss them. They are part of our everyday lives. We must work within ourselves and in our communities to eradicate the negative isms. But that doesn’t mean we have to stop having a little fun. So, I still think I want to be an ‘ism’.  Wouldn’t you?

 

 

Support Staff

 

I would raise my hand in protest,

But that’s really not my style.

I have a beef with all of you,

And it’s taken quite a while!

 

You give your praise to hands,

That wipe away your tears.

What about us lower down,

The abuse has been for years!

 

We stand around in 3-inch heels,

We make your legs look great.

But have you ever really thought,

About the bloody weight!

 

Pantyhose and socks,

All crammed in running shoes.

Then you make us run a race,

Next will be tattoos!

 

Remove our shackles and let us be,

Think sand between our toes.

Perhaps a walk along a beach,

Your feet would not oppose.

 

Take a moment and remember us,

And all we do for you.

As you stand and take a bow,

Don’t let our beefs accrue.

 

 

I Met a Word

I met a word the other day,

It popped up with no notice.

It seemed it had a beef with me,

Something about a lotus?

 

There was a symbol I had missed,

It had to do with flowers.

I promise truly I have no thoughts,

Perhaps those are my powers.

 

It is a symbol in many cultures,

Of enlightenment and rebirth.

I will not lay a claim to either,

Unless you mean my girth!

 

That silly word is having fun,

I think at my expense.

Perhaps it’s time for moving on,

At least that is my sense.

 

So many words do float about,

They are looking for a place.

Somewhere safe to stay a while,

I think that is the case.

 

So for now I’ll let it go,

But keep it close in mind.

I never know when I might need,

A word so well defined.

Thursday Doors Writing Challenge.

Our friend Dan has started The First Annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge which began on April 27, 2021. The photograph is mine.  I hope you enjoy.

 

Little Doors

Little Doors

There are tales of little doors

And of creatures from the moors.

Fairies, leprechauns and trolls

In their hands their tiny bowls.

 

In dark of night when they do stir

You’ll never see more than a blur.

What’s for dinner? I don’t know.

They are hungry if they show.

 

Tiny heads and tiny feet

Do not laugh if chance you meet.

Stand so still and let them be.

Never fear what you can’t see.

 

Open wide that little door

Magic lives and it wants more.

Freedom such a pretty word

Deep within the heart it stirred.

 

Gently treat the magic folk

They may in you pure joy evoke.

Live together and at peace

And on life a brand-new lease.

 

A Perfect Moment

The frantic pace that life inflicts,

Surrounds us every day.

Sights and sounds bombarding,

That fills one with dismay.

 

Take a moment, maybe two,

And calm your weary brow.

Close your eyes and take a breath,

And I will show you how.

 

Steam wafts gently upwards,

Escaping  from the hollows,

Of a  perfectly made cup of tea.

A scent of spice soon follows.

 

Ripples brush the surface,

Your breath a tender breeze.

Hands clasp around the warmth,

And soon you feel at ease.

 

Let this moment heal you,

Feel peace in its embrace.

Knowing you can always find,

This perfect state of grace.

 

 

I Love Reality TV 

A Blast From My Past                  Originally posted in April 2017.

Now don’t judge, let me explain. I love Reality TV; you know, what is ‘Real’ not some half-baked version of reality. Seriously some of this “Reality” TV is not my reality!

Now don’t get me wrong. I know how wildly popular these shows are. I personally do not enjoy watching people backstab, scream at each other and generally act like jerks for entertainment. It’s just not my thing. The ‘reality’ programs I do enjoy are the cooking shows. I have never cooked at that level but I’m fascinated by the people that do. Some of them are average people off the street. I find them interesting and supportive of each other. Yes, there are the occasional jerks, but I do try to ignore them and usually they’re booted off the show relatively early.

I even started watching a program, well a game show actually, where they are forging weapons. Seriously! But the passion they show for creating something beautiful and deadly it’s fascinating to me. The other kind of reality I enjoy watching are actually called documentaries. Now that is as real as it gets. I watched a program on the letters Queen Victoria wrote during her more than six decades of reign in England. It was a little bit history, a little romance and a lot of a strong woman. That’s a reality I can get behind.

I’m not sure I understand why some of these “programs” are designated as reality when they’re really just live-action game shows. A group of people are put in a box and live together. I have never watched the program so I’m probably not qualified to judge but to be honest I could never get past the ads for them. It simply looks like a group of people who want to see who can be the meanest or the most obnoxious to gain a questionable prize. I probably don’t understand the concept.

I did watch for a while the game show where people are deserted on an island but when it deteriorated into ‘how badly people can treat each other’, I lost interest. It was fascinating to watch the culture of the island as it was often interwoven into the contest. But that too became unwatchable.

When was the last time you saw something absolutely new on TV?  Everything seems to be a remake of a program from decades ago, even the movies. And then when something interesting does pop up it shows up on other channels with different actors but a similar premise. Have we grown so stale, so jaded that we can’t handle innovation? I find it amusing when I’m watching a show and enjoying it only to recognize something I saw in my childhood in the new program. I guess each new generation has to experience what we did decades ago in the entertainment field. Perhaps if we didn’t continue to live so long, we wouldn’t be noticing all the rehashes.

Still, I watch what’s on TV, some I enjoy some I don’t. And I think I’ll keep watching the reality TV that I enjoy. Parfait anyone?

 

My Airport Antics

I was reading a friend’s blog the other day (tidalscribe.com) and she was regaling her readers with her airport experiences. It made me think of the times I’ve had, well, issues in an airport. My biggest and most traumatic experience was when my father’s plane crashed in 1978. He survived.

Then I guess the one that stands out most was the time I thought I was going to be arrested for transporting drugs. It was August 1978, I was a Boy Scout at the time (they would go coed at a certain age) and we were travelling to Alberta for a National Moot. Think Jamboree. Groups were travelling from all over Canada and I think a few from the States and we are going to meet in Pincher Creek, Alberta for three days. My group thought we would go a little early and camp in the Rocky Mountains and then make our way down to Pincher Creek.

It was a great idea. We had to travel in uniform for insurance purposes so think of seven or eight 17-year-olds in Boy Scout uniforms descending on an airport. We stood out. For years my mother had been supplying us with hot chocolate that she would make herself because it was great when you’re camping. You only had to add water. This was over 40 years ago and I don’t believe they made hot chocolate that you could just make with water.  To make things easier, she put the powder in plastic baggies. There were probably about 20 double bags and then she put them in a flight bag.  None of us thought of the optics. As we were going through Customs it suddenly became very apparent why the Customs agents were taking an inordinate amount of time investigating that flight bag. I moved back in line a few paces. I wasn’t carrying the flight back.  It all worked out when somebody stuck their finger in the bag and tasted the hot chocolate.  They realized it was not cocaine and we were allowed to board the plane. I never did that again.

Then there is the time, many years later, I was travelling to Washington DC for a wedding with my mother. My father had declined the invitation. It was for people we didn’t know but their relatives were cousins that my mother had not seen in 60 years. They were coming from Belfast, Northern Ireland and I was anxious to meet them as well.

When my father’s plane had crashed, it was in a DC9.  I called the Airport to inquire as to what kind of plane we would be using and I was informed it was a 727. When my father dropped my mother and I at the airport and we collected our tickets, my father’s face looked odd. I didn’t question him at the time. We got on the plane and got comfortable and I reached out to read the little brochure in the seat pocket. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the plane I was sitting in was a DC9, the kind my father had crashed in.

We made it to Washington in one piece but I was a wreck. First place I went was the bar! We had a lovely three days and I met some incredible people. It was on the flight back that things got even funnier. We were not sitting in a DC9, we were in the promised 727. When we were packing for the weekend, I had asked my mother to pick up a book for me to read on the plane. Obviously, I was in no shape to read the book on the first flight but now I was relaxed and I reached for the promised book. It was called No Highway by Nevil Shute about a plane with a fatal flaw that’s going to crash and nobody knows about it. Thank you mother.

Oh, and the funny look on my father’s face? He had noticed my seat number, it was the same seat he was sitting in when his plane crashed. Who says life is boring?

Ah, Airline antics . . . .

 

 

Wild Life

A Polar bear was napping,

Upon a sea of ice.

I wonder if he was dreaming?

Of lunch to be precise.

 

I saw a hedgehog running,

He was in such a rush.

Perhaps he had a meeting,

With his latest crush.

 

A fox was sitting in the dark,

Her eyes so very bright,

I wonder what she was thinking,

And were her kits alright?

 

Butterflies are everywhere,

Flitting amongst the trees.

I wonder if they are happy,

As they surf a morning breeze.

 

Animals are all around us,

They live where we can’t see.

But every now and then they show,

Their lives to you and me.

 

Birds are high up in the sky,

Squirrels atop the trees.

Rabbits run within the grass,

And don’t forget the bees!

 

Can we know what they are thinking,

As we share our world with them?

Can we even guess their needs,

Or do we just condemn?

 

We share our world with others,

So different from who we are.

But kindness should be a way of life,

Then love would not be far.