The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: passing.
Our last outdoor farmers market of the year is in the books and it was a pretty good one. Sold most of the apples I brought, along with all the cherry tomatoes, most of the larger tomatoes, and all but one of the ornamental squash and ornamental baby pumpkins, not to mention a good chunk of the garlic.
The morning started out with sunshine but then things clouded over and it was fairly cool for the rest of the day. Just a few sprinkles of rain during the market and then a few more drops on the way home, but otherwise it held for us.
Had turkey dinner up at Kat's parents place this evening and it was both delicious and a lot of fun. Max definitely had a blast, which tends to be infectious.
Also happening tonight: the Canucks continued their positive start to the hockey season with a fun 5-4 win over Edmonton. We watched a bit of the game at Kat's parents place and Max was quite fascinated. For a while. Then he just needed to get up and run around in circles some more.
Mine:
He wants to write.
He tries and tries so hard but... ouch!
He can't help it -
He just passes out on the couch...
2 comments:
That sounds like a good market, especially if you're planning on it being the last of the year. I guess that means you won't be harvesting pumpkins to sell for Hallowe'en though? Or are their indoor markets that you'll attend instead?
Heh, I'm pretty certain that that poem is autobiographical ;-)
Passing
She was sat there, passing gas,
When the cat just up and died.
She wondered if it had been her ass,
As she sat and cried.
Greg - we didn't grow an excessive amount of pumpkins this year, so I don't think there will be many to worry about.
And... yeah, I might have had another night like this tonight :P
But thank you for the laugh your poem gave me just before I finally drag my butt to bed :)
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