Senora! I’ve found more lights! It looks promising. I knew I had many more strands, but these look unfamiliar.
So I pulled them out of the bag and untangled them, and when I plugged them in? Out of seven strands, only one worked! I mined the errant strands for a few replacement bulbs and tossed them into the trash. Planned obsolescence?
Whoever wrote this prompt today cannot have all the facts
If he thinks merely by wanting to, I can just relax!
Relaxing’s fine for those who have all their “to do’s” done,
but until the last one’s checked off, it’s not yet time for fun.
It’s true that life is not all work. There’s wisdom in each word.
But to rest prematurely is clearly just absurd.
I’ll paint the window frame and then put up Christmas lights.
Then unpack nacimientos–those Mexican delights.
I’ll hide the suitcase of old clothes I’ve been meaning to sell,
then close the guest room closet–best described as hoarding Hell!
Clothes of every era. Clothes of every size.
If you are into “retro,” you’d find it quite the prize.
Then hang up all the pictures and replace all the art
that’s been consigned to the upstairs since my remodel’s start.
We’ve wiped and swept and blown and washed ’til all the dust is gone,
but now must put away the stuff all the dust was on!
Two days from now, houseguests arrive. ‘Til then my life is taxing,
It’s when they finally get here that I’ll have time for relaxing!
A conundrum is a kind of riddle based upon some fanciful or fantastic resemblance between things quite unlike. It creates a puzzling question, of which the answer is or involves a pun. Solve this riddle and win a prize. (My admiration.) Try not to look at the comments until you’ve guessed the answer yourself. Then, please brag to me about it in the comments section!
What does not think but has a head?
Has many stories never read?
For each of us, just one, not many.
Contains much heart, yet has not any.
Some say once gone, you can’t go back,
and though one letter it may lack,
with it, if you hit the ball,
you’ll have the finest luck of all.
Add “r” and cover all the bases,
and you’ll bring smiles to many faces.
And when you finally come in free,
you’ll find you have come back to me.
One of the only problems with the prompt word “lofty”
is that the only word that rhymes happens to be “softie.”
Who can make a poem of that with no rhymes to use,
unless their perfect versifying they choose to abuse?
I’ve been busy all day long with no time to solve this,
but just this minute figured out a way I could resolve this.
My problem I’ll discuss at length, using random rhyme.
Until I reach the final line and just run out of time.
As long as my world keeps on changing,
it’s going to require rearranging.
Poor Pasiano bears the brunt
of labor as we shift and hunt
for repair tiles for the bath.
Their tiny chips create a path
from cabinet through the garage,
joining others in the barrage
of hidden things brought to the light
that fill my garage like a blight.
For fifteen years, we have been stacking
tiles here in their paper packing.
But boxes stowed away so nice
have since been frequented by mice
who ate away their once sharp edges
so tiles fall on shelves and ledges,
spilling out to bite the dust
of chewed up paper and dirt and rust.
All these years of accumulation
lead to mess and perturbation.
Would that I’d left it as it was,
hidden out of sight, because
now we have this awful mess
and to be truthful, I must confess,
I’ve lost my patience for this sorting.
I would rather be cavorting
in the pool or on the page.
Instead, I search and stack and rage.
Dusty, back-sore, tired, deranged—
I also have been rearranged!
(Click on first photo to enlarge pictures and read captions.)
One problem is the salitre that has risen up through my Saltillo tiles throughout the house.
Another is my fear that I’m going to trip getting out of the deep tub in my bathroom. The solution was to kill two birds with one stone and if there was going to be a mess anyway, I’d tile the entire house with more salitre-proof ceramic tile and transform the bathtub into a shower at the same time.
But this meant sorting through 15 years of boxes of tile to see if I had enough marble tiles as well as mosaic tiles that would match the ones presently in my bathroom.
Unfortunatey, not only were all of my boxes of the many different tiles used in my house stored in a difficult cabinet to reach, but also, mice seemed to have used the boxes they were in for material to build nests.
This meant removing all the tiles and a trip to the dread Walmart to try to find boxes small enough to store them in so they would fit back into the narrow cabinet.
Neither a fun project nor an unmessy one.
The prompt word today is “rearrange.” How appropriate. In the next month, I’ll be replacing all the floor tiles in my house and changing my oversized built in tub into a shower. Major remodeling here, and it was necessary to sort through an entire cabinet in the garage to try to find tiles to match the wall and tub tiles and marble inlay. As you have seen above, it was no easy task, thanks to 15 years of rodent activity hidden away in the recesses of the difficult-to-access storage cabinet where we’d been stacking different tiles for years.