If I'm gonna be dumb, it may as well be fun.
I can't control too much at all,
But with constant editing, the perception is what I make it.
An umbrella on the front porch tells the story.
Especially when it's August.
And the rain for which the umbrella was so needed,
Happened months ago.
Like the weeds and the cobwebs,
It was left unattended,
Like a shirt that needs mended,
Or letters unsent--ha, I was gonna say un-sended,
But my snobby auto-correct brain won't let me.
That's it for now, not much to say.
August 14 is Sharon's birthday.
I left the door open for the guinea hens,
In case they want to come out and play.
Perhaps they got too much excitement the other day,
When I couldn't get them to go back home til 9 at night,
When the cat was stalking them,
And they were just too plumb tuckered out,
Or dumb to figure out,
Which way was home.
Sean's monster computer will arrive today,
And an Amazon order for some 9 volt batteries and tiny measuring spoons.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.