Tuesday, 27 October 2009


"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Except, I am actually sick. And it's a Tuesday, not a Saturday.

And my name is not Peggy.

Tuesday, 6 October 2009


Sometimes, contentment is nothing more than a fiercely boiling tea kettle, a stack of psychology studies, and a purple highlighter.

Friday, 2 October 2009

Making Good Choices

I was working on homework in my room, and my friend Pearl came in, looking for black thread and a needle. I told her that if I had any, it was buried deep in my closet, so she decided to go next door and ask another friend, Loris. Then, if Loris had what she was looking for, we wouldn't have to dig through all of my stuff.

She came back a couple of minutes later with no needle and no thread, but with two bottles of hard cider, and no more interest in sewing.

She always manages to amuse me.