Chaucer Hath Mad Jokes

I was supposed to be a discussion leader for the discussion on selections from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales this week, but there was a bit of a communications error, and my thunder totally got stolen. That's okay - I'm pretty sure I'll get to do Arthurian Heroes, which is almost as cool.

I had gone to some trouble to prepare this "Discussion Leader" post, and had thought of two things I really wanted to share in addition to the academic bits. So I whipped up some rhymed couplets. *Ahem* Forthwith:

Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a mighty blog
Which loaded with witticisms is; that churlish dog
Updates his posts on so seldom a moon,
Causing geeks like me to nearly swoon.
One may find the blog (and ken the dog anon)
At House of Flame, blogspot dot com
But whilst I dally with you here a time,
Allow a goodwife yet one more little rhyme.
I saw a comic upon the Google Plus,
As I was dawdling on this forum; it is attached, thus,
Click the attachment and humor you will see,
About the Middle Ages, that which tickles me.

The school's forum thingie is painfully out-moded, so the image below was an attachment that had to be "clicked" rather than just displayed in the post.

By the way, if you need a bawdy laugh, and/or if you haven't recently, find a nearby copy of the Tales, and read the Wife of Bath's Tale. Omg. Hysterical.

My Commute :)

I actually really love driving. Even in rush hour. Even if there's traffic. Not so much if I'm running late, but even then, I don't usually get angry about it. But, there's just something about a commute that can't be captured with the windows up. Even if you sing your lungs out, it's just not as good with the windows up.

I walked to my car in the still, warm sunshine. My day was so done. I put it in reverse... And put it back in park.

I was digging through my purse. No dice... no luck... not finding- Ah! A pen. It'd do. I twisted it up, folded it over and wove the pen through. Opened the windows, two at a time. Turned the radio up, and off I went, homeward.

WIND WIND WIND... and fresh-cut grass... the PSS-PSSSSSS! of air from the brakes of that truck... a flowering bush?... The laugh of the woman on the radio... Mulch, and some other flower-smell... The smile of the guy passing me... The smell of something green and growing... and all the while, WIND WIND WIND.

My Dream Is a Poem

Saturday morning, I woke up and said most of this to my son, who woke me up. I was thinking it needed to be drawings or paintings, but then I thought about all those stripes and oddly-shaped legs and got discouraged.

The Zebras were doing Yoga
Their matching stripes in matching poses
With matching pink Yoga mats
In the down-dog position

There was a singular Hippopotamus
Taking a deep-water aerobics class
From an absent instructor
Madly waving her Styrofoam dumb-bells

The snakes were practicing gymnastics
Threading themselves through the rings
Hanging out on the un-parallel bars
Springing from the trampoline

There were Leopards on the indoor track
and Sharks spinning in the bicycle room
The Dogs didn't show up,
The lazy things

Aftermath

Melted ice cream;
Warm beer;
A broiling bedroom;
Ice-cold showers
do nothing to mitigate 
these circumstances