Of sangfroid she knows not a lot —
her temper has always been hot.
Her friends say she’s cooling
but they are just fooling;
instead she’s quit brimming the pot.
I’m spouting limericks today! Here’s my response to Fandango’s One-word Challenge: SERIES:
One day two young lads from Tangiers
got a series of serious sears.
While playing with matches
in dry grassy patches
they singed all their hair and their ears.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt word this morning is GNAW
A mouse, creeping out in the night,
found cat food, to his great delight.
He’d just started to gnaw
when this huge furry paw
launched the poor mouse on a flight.
I’ve heard and read about the “dust bowl” years here on the prairie, about hoppers that could clean off a 160-acre field in a day, about horses and cows forced to eat the prickly Russian thistles because they were the only green thing growing anywhere, about the farmers who took jobs in the northern “parkland” part of the province to earn enough to get by for another year. So I made up this diary.
Prairie Farm Girl’s Diary — Summer 1934
A west wind blew the hoppers in
two days ago.
They cleaned the wheat crop
clear down to the ground
Dad went north to a lumber camp
so we can afford our grub and heat
and feed for the horses and cow –
unless it rains.
A stream of clouds went over
on their way to rain somewhere else,
Tom and I are minding the place
while Dad’s away and Mom’s in a dither
about all the dust.
She says we’re leaving this drought-deviled land
soon as Dad gets back.
Our Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is WREST
One definition, according to M-W, is “to gain with difficulty by or as if by force, violence, or determined labor.” Our newest cat, Tuffy, though he’s only half-grown, doesn’t seem to have such great difficulty wresting small creatures from their hiding places, but I’ll use this word in my response. Since the writing prompt is to be a quick, fun thing I’ll offer my little rhyme.
The temperature has turned quite mild recently, to the delight of our cats. They’re ready to rush off to adventures whenever the door’s open. Yesterday Tuffy raced across the driveway, over the big snowbank on the other side left by the plow, and up into the crotch of a nearby tree. Heaven help the birds come spring! Last night when I let Tuffy out the back door he started nosing along the side of the trailer. Before long he stopped to investigate one spot intently.
Outside in a flash nosing in the tall grass surrounding our dwelling, Tuff found a small swelling. Oh, joy! 'Twas a hole smelling strongly of mole – or maybe a mouse entry into our house. A wee mole was stirring, his cat nature spurring his talon to wrest pipsqueak from its nest. That sad little creature became the prime feature in a game of delight for Tuffy last night.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt: GALAVANT — or GALLIVANT (UK)
Something none of us have done very much of for awhile. But the moon, on the other hand, wanders willy-nilly at times.
Moon, moon, what dost thou here? You're supposed to be away over there on the other side shining down on Japan or India or even Turkey. It's mid-afternoon and here – not there – you are! Not staying on your given track what's prompted you to gallivant around the globe in broad daylight? Folks around there will miss your whiteness, your brightness. Worse, I suppose now you won't show up for our date tonight. Totally off course – maybe in Timbuktu – when we need you. Obdurate orb, don't be so dim! Get with the program, eh.