Laundry Day Uplift

The words “turkey ala king” on the dinner menu here at the old folks’ home made me queasy. Maybe that isn’t the right word. I don’t have a violent dislike for the stuff. It has never made me sick, but it is boring. What if I fall asleep and my face ends up in the fowl concoction?

After a moment or two of shallow thought, I decided that doing laundry was the more exciting option. I rummaged through the unruly mess in and around the hamper, filled a basket with dirty clothes and headed to the laundry room. Edith was there, reading a magazine while a washer went through its spin cycle.

“Doing some laundry?” she said.

“Have to. Dirty clothes are taking over the apartment.”

“Good time to do it. Everyone’s at dinner.”

I nodded and filled a washer with colors and another with whites. As those washers went into action, Edith’s spun to a halt. She took several items from the washer and laid them on her walker. She put the rest in a dryer.

“I’m going back and hang these up on the shower-curtain rod,” she said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Twenty minutes later, Edith pushed her walker back into the laundry room, took her clothes from the dryer, cleaned the lint trap, and said, “Have a good night.”

How could I not? Seeing Edith do her laundry, or any mundane task, is inspiring. Edith is 105.

3 Word Wednesday for June 29: Queasy, Unruly, Violent

Tis the Season's Opening Day

Three Word Wednesday - 

This week's words: Habitual; Illustrious; Jumbled

Christmas comes but once a year, which is just as well,

although all the retailers would like to have more

so every single week there would be a Black Friday,

with jumbled hordes of crazed shoppers outside the store

at three-ten in the morning, credit cards in hand.

Christmas: a great excuse for a shopping orgy.

The proudly religious also up and orgy

over “Season’s Greetings,” a term they don’t take well.

And “Happy Holidays” gives the devil a hand,

they say. “And we’ll not shop here, not even once more

unless the cash registers in your godless store

tell the clerks to say ‘Merry Christmas’ by Friday.”

That way, when the saved go shopping on Black Friday

they can revel religiously in the orgy

and shop with wild, untamed abandon in the store,

certain that big spending makes God love them so well.

With every smile and proper greeting, they spend more,

and piles of cash go into the store owner’s hand.

“Merry Christmas:” a small price for cash in the hand.

No wonder retailers so enjoy Black Friday

and hope consumer greed will lead to more.

Shoppers spend money they don’t have to fund the orgy,

pulling buckets of cash from the credit-card well,

forgetting that dunning notices are in store.

A timid person faces danger in the store.

A habitual, Type-A shopper might hit him with her purse.

He’ll leave in an ambulance, and she’ll say, “Oh, well.

Wimps should know better than to shop on Black Friday;

you’ve got to be tough to survive this mad orgy.

He’s out of the way now, and I’m going to shop more.”

The retailer is so glad she keeps spending more;

If she’s got money, she’s welcome in his store.

Illustrious economists watch the orgy

to see if it’s giving business a fiscal hand,

or if it’s just another nondescript Friday,

and, despite the madness, the retailers do not fare well.

The annual orgy, set to begin once more.

To get things going well, you must spend big at the store.

Credit cards in hand, go deep into debt on Friday.

My Busy Work

To get my lazy butt moving, I have been starting each day with the MadKane limerick contest and Three Word Wednesday. MadKane’s rhyme word for line 1,2, or 5 this week is “trust.” 3WW’s words for last week were “blemish” “erect” and “lopsided.” The words for this week are “dead” “hungry” and “threaten.”

Me Sin?

The fiery preacher’s past had a blemish

That became known. And so to replenish

His stock among gullible followers,

Who were such eager, willing swallowers

Of his balderdash, he stood proudly erect,

Quite confident they would never detect

The truth. He claimed the coverage was lopsided;

The press was unfair and should be chided.

His congregation said, “Yes, you are right.”

And he happily bedded some slut that night.

Two American Sentences

Blemish on my nose. I’m lopsided, can’t stand erect. 

It’s a bad day.

My computer is dead. I’m hungry.

I should threaten someone. But who?

Trust You?

Appalled when his wife fumed and fussed,

Shocked Arthur asked why she had cussed.

“You are seeing a tart.

Don’t deny it, dear Art.”

“OK, but don't I deserve your trust?”

Bought and Paid For

The would-be prez will ask your trust,

But his word is mere worthless dust.

That charming young bloke

Has been purchased by Koch,

And will do what he’s told he must.

Fessing Up

You know, so many times I just

Can’t seem to do the things I must.

Sad but true, I ignore

All my chores more and more.

I am no longer one you’d trust.