WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 11/6/2020

“Are we there yet?” You might have wished you were if your vacation turned disastrous -and so wrote the poets of this week’s contest. Of all the mishaps they managed, only one passed for funniest, and that was:

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Travelling around the countryside,
Ask the Whittams, Ask the Whittams,
Travelling around the countryside
Ask the Whittam Family.

Dear Whittam Family,
What do you do when your nut comes off, dear Whittams, dear Whittams?
What do you do when your nut comes off, dear Whittams, your nut?
Call for a tow truck, dear viewer, dear viewer?
Call for a tow truck dear viewer, a tow truck?
But I have no reception dear Whittams, dear Whittam?
But I have no reception dear Whittams, no reception at all?
In that case dear viewer, dear viewer,
In that case dear viewer, you are kind of f*****

Travelling around the countryside,
Ask the Whittams, Ask the Whittams,
Travelling around the countryside
Ask the Whittam Family.

Congratulations, Deb! You are the funniest poet for the week!

Admittedly, I had a REALLY difficult time choosing only one winner. These were hilarious, especially the ones that were true! Debbie won for a clever parody of an old favorite and for an appropriately funny cuss.

…On a side note, I actually read when this happened to poor Deb…

For a better laugh than the time these poor poets had, read on:

Untitled, by Sara
(This is a TRUE STORY! Only, it was my parents dealing with my little sister.)
There’s that smell

I can tell

She threw up, again

Will this ever end?

We pull over

To clean the car

We’re not nearly there

Our destination is far

As we scrub the floor mat

And her little car seat

Little did we know

We were in for a treat

Parked alongside a lovely, vast field

Ignorantly assuming a safe place to yield

Off our gal trotted, right into it

And here’s the ironic, “humorous?” bit

Two seconds later, we hear a sharp cry

It blew back the grass and tousled the sky

Baby girl was stuck

My, oh my

Our vomit-covered darling

Had stepped in a cow pie

Best holiday ever, by Hobbo
(Full version at Hobbo’s site)
We should never have chosen off peak
It was raining, the car sprang a leak
David squashed granny’s best hat
Baby Alfie was sick on the cat.

On the moors, dad ran over a ram
An hour later, we’re stuck in a jam
We got there too late for the ferry
Mum found the bar and got merry.

We arrived there to find we’d left gran
At the caff, with a man from Japan
Our five star was under construct
And all of the rooms double booked.

The food gave young Lucy the trots
And Christopher broke out in spots
German measles, our french doctor said
And confined him to ten days in bed.

Going home, despite begging and pleading
Dad got a ticket for speeding
When the copper told dad he could start
Our tyres were as flat as a fart.

Once home, track-traced for Covid 19
So then, yes you’ve guessed, quarantine
And because we are now isolating
This vacation gets zero star rating.

Basil and Mabel, by Geoff LePard
(You’ll have to disqualify me because it’s too many words, but I hadn’t the heart to cut back on Basil and Mabel…)
Basil and Mabel went to Spain
Again and again and again.

He drove from Dover
And to remain sober
He’d refrain, refrain, refrain.

One day on the Costa
He thought he’d lost her
The pain, the pain, the pain.

To dull the fear
He ordered sangria
Again and again and again.

Mabel was worried,
Around she hurried
The fool, the fool, the fool.

It began to concern her
When inside the taverna,
On a stool, a stool a stool

Basil was slumped.
‘Oh you old chump’
Dabbing the drool, the drool, the drool.

She left the bar
And found the car
Near the pool, the pool, the pool.

‘Where to, Bas?’
‘Let’s try La Paz’
‘It’s cool, it’s cool, it’s cool.’

They took to the road;
She drove like Toad
Too fast, too fast, too fast.

On a blind bend
Tipping end over end
They met their last, their last, their last

The moral of the fable
Of Basil and Mabel
Is you always lose
When full of booze
So try and abstain
When in Spain, in Spain, in Spain.

That Holiday Air, by Obbverse
(Certain hotels should have had their names changed to protect their guilt. But what the hell. And pushing the PG13 rating? Ah, what the hell.))
We breezed into Kingman, wafted up up to our pre-booked room,
‘Twas a romantic cute boutique newly tarted-up hideaway hotel,
Even in this modern times, foolish dreamers, do not presume
That an Arizonan night of heavenly pleasure can’t go all to hell.

The owners had been penny wise when fitting out the Brunswick,
True to its history they’d turned to every possible cheap trick,
An attempt to retain all original features, all part of the plan,
So, creaky bedsprings and no air-con except the ol’ ceiling fan.

Outside a high desert wind buffeted the shuttered window pane,
Inside, an ill wind blew no good, thanks to a lousy hotel’s buffet,
Dawn saw the leaving of two wretches that guest house won’t see again,
Now neither of us dare speak of, much less wish to repeat that sorry day.

Four gormless teenage lads on the road, by Doug Jacquier
Dora Dora has a single building
bereft of any sort of modern gilding;
pub and general store all rolled into one;
no exotic idyll baking in the sun.

Entering we see a bar
that you might see in Lilliput afar;
we become an instant crowd
eight feet sounding too loud.

Behind the bar, in a top hat,
sits a man with a newspaper and a scabby cat.
‘Corn flakes and milk?’ we enquire
‘Not in the bar, take three steps to the side.’

Groceries obtained, we ordered beers for four
and he nodded to where we’d been before.
Shuffling left, he pulled four ales,
fixing us with eyes like bloodshot snails.

Enough was enough and we re-join the track,
thinking it was never like this for Jack Kerouac.
And we realise somethin’ very disturbin’.
We’re not sub-culture, we’re just plain suburban.

—–

Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on Pexels.com

Thank you, thank you to all who entered! Come back at 10 a.m. tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

Deb, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

Ohhh Eeee Aaay Vacay!

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh
The kids just screamed, “I’ve gotta go!”
And
The trailer’s back there, in the snow;
We needed it for food, sleep, clothes
But
Its tires fell off and it won’t go.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Cry Mommy, Daddy, kids, baby
‘Cause
Sally poked him; “Bill’s breathing!”
The car’s all out of gasoline
And
No one’s ever changed Baby.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaay
Dad’s just asked why they vacay
So
Mom’s offered to give him ‘way
Low tire pressure‘s on display
And
When we get to far, far ‘way
Mom and Dad will droop and sway
But
All the kids will want to play;

Says Mom, “Why do we e’er vacay?”

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

There’s still time to enter YOUR poem for this week’s A Mused Poetry Contest!!

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/31 – 11/06/2020

Do you love to laugh out loud? Silently snicker? Guffaw as you …gallop? You’re in the right place!

Here are the rules for this week:

  1. The Theme is road-trip disasters or vacation mishaps. Did you travel all day and into the night, only to find another person in your bed? Find a flat tire midway through Nebraska? Get chased by roos in The Never-Never? Poem about it.
  2. Length: flexible. Keep the word count between 5 and 155 words.
  3. I recommend Rhyming, but it’s up to you!
  4. Arriving in a strange town where no one speaks your language and discovering you haven’t packed spare underwear is very frustrating, so the Rating can be PG-13 or cleaner.
  5. MAKE US LAUGH. Sad as you feel/felt/will feel, capture the humor in the annoyance.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (November 6) to submit a poem.

Use the form, below, to remain anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if your link-back doesn’t show up by midnight the day you create it.

—–

Bon voyage!

—–

Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

Tour of Utah: Deseret Industries

Today’s episode of “Sites to Visit in Utah” features a retail store most of the world is not familiar with: Deseret Industries.

The next question on your mind is So, what is Deseret Industries?

D.I. Closed

Currently closed, due to COVID-19.

Started in 1938, Deseret Industries (D.I.) is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint’s goodwill store.

But, why would we want to visit there?

D.I. may be a place to sort through and pay for donated ‘treasures,’ but it’s also much more!

For one thing, the LDS church uses D.I. as a job training resource. Those needing skills work in receiving moccasins someone’s been walking in, sorting some Pro Wings, pricing a fur fox skin, stocking the shelves with flannel zebra jammies, and even ringing up your purchase of your grandad’s clothes.

I …am a D.I. addict. I love going there. At least, I loved going there. Once The Scary Coronamonster drew closer, I eschewed my thrift shop stops. Before that point, however, I was a regular.

Mostly, I use D.I. to feed a gnawing bibliophile appetite. Sometimes, I find signed copies.

Besides books I’m interested in, I also uncover valuable literary treasures.

1800 Books

This is one of many valuable antique books in the locked case that day.

…And, less-valuable, less-literary discoveries.

Pizza!

Yes, this is a plush pizza.

I shop for luggage, lunch bags, bicycles, fake ficus trees, antiques, Halloween costumes, VHS and DVD films, tools, furniture, toys, vases, decorations, banana split dishes, and random crap I didn’t even know I wanted.

It’s similar to what I’ve heard flea markets are like. I think.

D.I. is all over the place in Utah. I even have my favorite locations, depending on what I’m searching for. It’s not just me, either; my former sixth-grade teacher used to show up at our lunch dates (when I was older, naturally) with her latest book finds from her favorite D.I.

It sounds crazy; but if you’re in the area, you should hit one up!


For no cost to you, here’s what I donated to the internet last week:
Wednesday, May 13: A virtual tour of Capitol Reef National Park.

Thursday, May 14: “Dear Teacher,” after reminiscing on my school/home experiences.

Friday, May 15: Announced that Charles won the Weekly Hilarity Contest.

Saturday, May 16: Announced this week’s Hilarity Contest. Write a response to the quote from good ol’ Kephart.

And, another update on the Coronavirus Home Life.

Sunday, May 17: “What’s in a Name?” for Carrot Ranch’s prompt.

Monday, May 18: Shared a quote by Norman Cousins.

Tuesday, May 19: “Going Postal, X.”

Wednesday, May 20: Today

I also posted on my motherhood site. I wrote “Sleep, the Unattainable Dream.”

 

©2020 Chelsea Owens, including pictures (excluding the front image of Deseret Industries and YouTube’s video).

Tour of Utah: Capitol Reef National Park

Utah has a LOT of national and state land. It’s a recreational paradise if you like hiking, biking, camping, skiing, fishing, feeling dry almost all the time, walking, and a bit of boating or canoeing.

I haven’t been to all of the government parks, but I have visited Capitol Reef. When I was a child, my mother used her local library and a telephone device to book us a week’s stay at a vacation home nearby. The owners had a farm and built the guesthouse as an extra way to make money. Their kids played with us and even let my brother come along on their ATV to move sprinklers.

As to the park itself: I don’t remember much. I take Utah’s scenic destinations for granted and did so to a greater degree as a child. I remember thinking, “Oh, great. More red rock. Oh, great. More big, open spaces where deer and antelope roam.”

Okay -I didn’t think those phrases exactly. I did mentally yawn over yet another hike through sagebrush and sand.

I mean, what’s so fabulous about this?

CR1

Navajo Dome, from Capitol Reef’s website.

Or this?

CR2

Looks like the Fruita Schoolhouse, also from their site.

Or this?

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Okay, I stole this from Wikipedia.

…Maybe we ought to go back with our own family.

Wanderu outlines the attractions and explains the meaning of its name, below:

“Located in Utah’s south-central desert, Capitol Reef National Park is defined by the Waterpocket Fold – a unique geologic landform extending from southern Wayne all the way to northern Kane counties. Some of the park’s highlights include the Chimney Rock pillar, the Hickman Bridge arch, the towering monoliths of Cathedral Valley, and, of course, the Capitol Reef. The latter is an extremely rugged segment of the Waterpocket Fold famous for its whitish Navajo Sandstone cliffs with dome formations.”

They also provide a live webcam and a few YouTube tours. If you go in person (by car), it’s 3 hours 39 minutes from ye olde airport to a pricey lodge near the park entrance.


 

And, here’s the writings of the Chelsea before this point:
Wednesday, May 6: An update on home life during Coronavirus.

Thursday, May 7: “Going Postal, VIII.” The plot thickens…

Friday, May 8: We toured Beehive House. You know, virtually.

And, announced that Ellen and her cheeky tits won the first Weekly Hilarity Contest.

Saturday, May 9: Announced this week’s Hilarity Contest. Think of a not-too-shocking caption.

Sunday, May 10: “Love the World” for Carrot Ranch’s prompt.

Monday, May 11: Shared a quote by Charli Mills.

Tuesday, May 12: “Going Postal, IX.”

Wednesday, May 13: Today

I also posted on my motherhood site. I wrote “What the Frick?” and a haiku.

 

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Pictures ©2020 Capitol Reef National Park, and By Axcordion at English Q52 – Own work, Public Domain

Tour of Utah: Beehive House (AKA Brigham Young’s House)

Today, we’re ‘traveling’ to a historic site in Salt Lake City. Not only is the Beehive House in SLC, it’s about a good stone’s throw from the exact center of Salt Lake City.

The front of the house, with plaque. Thanks, templesquare.com.

The Mormon leader and Utah governor Brigham Young wanted some order to the settlement of Deseret. As such, there is a starting point for all of the addresses in its principal city. Since I live in Salt Lake County, my house address measures from that point. Young also ordered the streets on a grid and made them wide enough for a carriage to turn fully around.

compass

See? Mormons are organized folk. Thanks, waymarking.com.

Besides those accomplishments, Brigham Young was quite the family man. Wikipedia says he had 55 wives (some, he only sealed his name to); The Church stops at 27ish. Understandably, all those women and children needed housing. Beehive House is one of his residences.

Built back in 1854, he and his family (families?) lived within it and the extremely-adjacent Lion House from 1855 to his death in 1877.

Why visit Beehive House?

In 1959-1960, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints revamped the thing and opened it as a tourist stop. Visitors may see how the Young family (families?) lived, ate, slept, and passed their time.

beehive_house_kitchen

This looks like a kitchen, although 56 children would not have fit at that table. Maybe they took it in shifts? (Care of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.)

The last time we visited as a family, the cute old lady conducting our tour told us about Brigham Young’s favorite wife, Amelia, throwing a new sewing machine down the stairs because she didn’t like the brand.

“On one occasion he sent her a sewing machine, thinking to please her; it did not happen to be the kind of a one which she wanted; so she kicked it down stairs, saying, ‘What did you get this old thing for? You knew I wanted a Singer.’ She got a Singer at once.”

Ann Eliza, two wives after Amelia, from Ann’s book Wife No. 19.

Be that a lesson to you, gents: don’t gift your 37-years-younger woman anything less than a Singer.

We like the blast to the past, the interesting stories, the neat architecture, and that it’s close to The Lion House Pantry (a cafeteria-style restaurant with dang good rolls).

Staircase

That’s a mighty fine beehive, c/o The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Unlike Arches National Park, our last designation, Beehive House is about half an hour East and a titch North from the airport. There’s some on-street (metered) parking and a few underground spots (possibly able to get validated) beneath the nearby City Creek Mall.


You get two weeks of writings!:
Thursday, April 23: Wrote about Arches National Park.

Friday, April 24: Obbverse won the Terrible Poetry Contest for that week.

Saturday, April 25: Announced the final Terrible Poetry Contest. It was a good ‘un.

Monday, April 27: “A quote by Robin Sharma.

And, “How Much is That Love in the Window?” for Carrot Ranch’s prompt last week.

Wednesday, April 29: “Going Postal, VII,” in which we meet Marty Mennet.

And, got excited that Pam sent me her new book!!

Friday, May 1: Winner of the last Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Congratulations to Trent! We’re still working on rapping…

Saturday, May 2: Introduce the new Weekly Hilarity Contest! I’ll post the winner tonight.

Sunday, May 3: Shared Nitin’s opening line contest. He intends to do more funny contests, so stay tuned!

Monday, May 4: An inspirational quote by the internet.

And, “Longboard Records Are Meant to Be Broken,” for Carrot Ranch‘s prompt.

Wednesday, May 6: An update on home life during Coronavirus.

Thursday, May 7: “Going Postal, VIII.” The plot thickens…

I also posted on my motherhood site. I wrote “What the Frick?” and “Mother of Four.”

 

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Tour of Utah: Arches

I’m the sort of person who could be next-door neighbors to Leonardo da Vinci and neglect to bring him a plate of cookies. Ohhh- I might do so when he first moves in. I’d definitely bring him one at the birth of his child(ren). I’m certain I’d also wave whilst driving to carpool when I saw him out painting his house.

On the whole, though, I’m not good at appreciating and utilizing resources I live near to. This is not the case for my blogging friend, Lisa, who not only lives in the paradise of the French Alps, but takes beautiful walks and hikes.

Since spending so much time indoors recently, I’ve resolved to change. I’ve resolved to GET OUT once getting out is safe and to visit what is right next door (figuratively). In the meantime, I’ve resolved to ‘visit’ the places virtually. I will use this as a guide for where to go once going is a good option.

So… first on our list is Arches National Park.

tom-gainor-P5Y0jG2FqMo-unsplash

I’ve hiked around the area twice, I think. I remember seeing a photograph of my family from when I was a child. We stayed in a motor home (RV) borrowed from my grandparents and hunted for our Easter eggs in places like the shower, compact fridge, and foldout table.

My memory’s fuzzy since creating and caring for children, but I’m fairly certain Kevin and I returned to Arches as newlyweds. We encountered a boisterous family group from Utah and a much smaller family visiting from France. The large family thought teasing the French couple to be quite funny. “Yep; I’m the dad,” one of the men said. “These,” he gestured to cousins, daughters, and his wife, “Are all my wives.”

The French couple had one or two children, as I recall, and joked right along. Oh, how I wish I were proficient enough in a foreign language to understand subtlety and humor.

All of this tells you nothing about the park itself.

josh-soriano-Aydu-0d4Iwc-unsplash

Arches National Park is located out in the middle of nowhere, very near to a very small city named Moab. A college roommate of mine came from Moab and explained that (polygamy or no) they were all related. “My family tree’s like a family wreath,” she joked.

Strangely enough, she ended up marrying a local and they still live there…

To get to the park, you drive and drive and drive and drive. If you were a tourist, the drive from the Salt Lake City International Airport to Arches National Park is 3 hours, 43 minutes (thank you, Google Maps).

Once you arrive, you realize you have driven and driven and driven and driven …out in the middle of nowhere. It’s hot (unless it’s winter). It’s dry (we are a desert). It’s red. It’s windy. It’s also slightly radioactive, but they don’t really want that in the brochures.

You and I will need sunglasses, sunscreen, a hat, good hiking shoes, and lots of water. We’ll eat rattlesnake for food -or, also remember to pack in food.

The park is BIG. According to Wikipedia, it’s about 76,000 acres. It contains “more than 2,000 natural sandstone arches.” And, yes, those arches are really cool to look at. You just have to hike to them (good thing we brought hiking shoes).

The trail to Delicate Arch, the one you’ve likely seen pictures of the most, is three miles roundtrip. With a toddler, that takes about 6 hours. After that, you pick him or her up and hike the rest of the 2.5 miles without complaint.

The area has neat-looking land forms and geological striations visible from the road and the Visitor’s Center as well. Not bad, eh?

jaxon-lott-d91KFAekDtQ-unsplash

I recommend trying to find lodging nearby so as to enjoy the hikes and area on a fresh night of sleep. RV companies rent vehicles out for limited-time use. Locals have Bed and Breakfast options. One of my neighbors offers an on-site, parked RV for paid use as well.

Supposedly, this link will bring you to a virtual tour of Arches National Park.

—————-

Last week’s schedule, a little closer to home:
Thursday, April 16: “This and That and a Blogging Schedule,” a mix of thoughts and ideas for a blogging outline.

Friday, April 17: Winner of the Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Congratulations to DumbestBlogger! We’re working on the special prize, I promise!

Saturday, April 18: Announced the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is a humorous end to a useful object. PLEASE ENTER!

Sunday, April 19: “In the Mind of Crazy Rhyme,” in response to Carrot Ranch‘s prompt.

Monday, April 20: An inspirational quote by the internet.

And, another update about home life c/o COVID-19.

Tuesday, April 21: “Going Postal, VI.” Gotta love “Lucy.”

Wednesday, April 22: Today.

I also posted on my motherhood site. I wrote “Mom Time in the Closet.”

Photo Credits: Tom Gainor
Josh Soriano
Natalie Chaney
Stephen Leonardi
Jake Nackos
Jaxon Lott

©2020 Chelsea Owens

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

Wow. I’m not certain I want to go on vacation after reading this week’s batch of terrible poetry. From ‘wish you were(n’t) here’ to ‘wish I’d vacationed alone’ to …sheep? the poems this time around truly delivered.

But we’re not only here to lament our wasted work leave. We’re here to pick a winner, and that is:

Untitled piece

by Gary

Arrived in Pluto just 459 years late.
You wouldn’t believe what they are charging on the exchange rate
Can’t open the hotel windows as the air tends to dissipate
Can eat what I want as the low gravity gives me little weight
The beaches are empty so it feels a little desolate
The trip round the 5 moons was first rate
The nightlife is great at the disco you should see the locals gyrate
Tomorrow off to one of the poles to ice skate.

Congratulations, Gary! You are the most terrible poet of the week!

Competition was stiff between 2-3 at the end. Gary’s won for its wonderful every-line-rhyming, mostly. I also appreciated his consistent mis-meter, topped by an interesting message that was on topic.

Do you think you’d like to receive a postcard bearing any of the following?:

Untitled piece

by Trent McDonald

Just writing from my.
Little bit of paradise.
Just taking some.
Time for a note.
Just saying that.
Vacation is going.
Well.
Just need to let you know.
That I will be out.
Of the hospital.
Soon.

—–

Greetings from Bermuda

by Peregrine Arc

I finally made it to Bermuda, my dear little one.
Everyone has shorts and triangles for sale, it’s odd.
I should be back next Tuesday, make sure you feed the cat.
The plane just needs to get us out of this isoceles, stat.

—–

Untitled piece

by Deb Whittam

Mary packed her bags
Mary had had enough
Damn the little lost sheep
They could cut their own fluff
She was going abroad
To sunshine and wine
She was going abroad
She was going to have a swell time
All was going well
But then the hotel demanded payment
Mary huffed and puffed
She was being treated like a vagrant
Mary decided to take a stand
There was more than one way to call a bluff
She went to the local zoo
To find the right stuff
Filling her room with creatures
She dared them to remove her now
Mary landed herself in jail
Damn those damn sheep
They were all going to hell

—–

A postcard to the wife

by Bruce Goodman

I wanted a hassle-free vacation
so that’s why I’m not telling you my location.
I don’t care if you’re alone;
I’m glad I left you at home.
I don’t miss you constantly talking garbage,
although I do miss having you here to carry my luggage.
When I get back home next Friday
I hope the house is nice and tidy.
So aloha from some hidden beach
that hopefully you won’t be able to reach.

—–

Vacation Limerick

by Riley4892

My family went away on vacay,
And the sun shone most every day.
Until there was rain,
It drove us insane,
And now we stay inside to play.

—–

Déjà vu

by Joanne the Geek

It’s like I’ve been here before
all the beaches I’m at, all seem the same
they all have sand and rocks and water
and bathers slowly roasting themselves in the sun
and then there are the hotels –
all offering services and rooms that all
look the same no matter where you go
and all the people are the same too
I’m not actually saying they are literally all the same people
but that they are all the same types of people, that’s
what I’m getting at
I don’t mean to sound neurotic
but sometimes I wonder if I’m in a simulation

—–

A Postcard from Finland

by Shaun Jex

Hello Dear –
I fear
You would not like it here
Helsinki
Is way way way too stinky
This time of year
But I guess it’s good to know
No matter how far and wide I roam
There is always a little something
That reminds me of our home.

—–

My Summer Vacation

by Ruth Scribbles

Various

Anxious

Catastrophic

Antics

Tempted

Indecent

Outlandish

Nonsense

On my summer vacation

A best staycation ever

The jealousy abounded

And I was hounded

Indecently

For my details

V

….A

……..C

…………A

…………….T

………………..I

……………………O

………………………..Ns

—–

Thank you to all the wonderful/terrible poets! Come on by tomorrow around 10 a.m. for next week’s prompt.

Gary: D. Wallace Peach created this graphic that you can use (if you want) for a badge of honor as the winner:

Why Vacation if You’re a Stick in the Mud?

I don’t get out much. Maybe you’ve noticed.

When I do escape the dishes and children and laundry, my vacation destination is …Wal-mart. Ooh! Or Costco! Frankly, I spend enough at those, and the local Smith’s Marketplace, to cover a cruise.

Bu-u-u-ut the hubs and I made a goal to family vacay every summer. Sometimes it’s been camping. Sometimes it’s a cross-country trip. Sometimes we jaunt down to California for our every-five-years-Disneyland extravaganza.

Since I began this summer on bed rest, I had to put any travel plans on hold. Since we learned I was pregnant and needed to pay for removing our sweet, little parasite; we had to put our finances on hold.

I therefore booked a quick weekend away, using some reward points from the credit card.

I therefore picked somewhere not too far away but far enough to count as ‘vacation.’

I therefore booked a really fun hotel with a water slide and planned to eat tuna sandwiches.

I therefore demanded an oath of my husband that he would not point out any practical failings, metaphorically raining on our happy parade.

Problem is, I am an analytical person. I married an analytical person. We are both fairly practical as well. And critical. And, although I’ve been riding the Jaded Coaster since about age 3, my sweet husband got on and has been uncomfortably riding for over a decade now.

We made it to the second day before fighting about how the whole thing made no financial sense and we could be doing everything we were doing if we’d simply stayed home.

Fun times.

Which has since led me to ruminating about people and their vacations. For, of course one could save money, comfort, time, and hassle by staying put. There’s no risk. No bedbugs. No missing toothbrush. No change of climate or circumstance.

I’ve wondered a few specific things:

  1. Are vacations fun?
  2. Are they worth the cost?
  3. Are they worth the work?
  4. Is a vacation a vacation?

What do you think? What has your experience been?

 

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I wrote a few things this past week:
Wednesday, August 14: Shared some of my favorite funny pregnancy t-shirts in “The Funniest Pregnancy Tees.”

Thursday, August 15: Announced I’d be going off the grid for a family vacay. I haven’t really come back yet.

Friday, August 16: Winner of the Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Thank you so so so so so so so so so so much to Bruce for adjudicating. Congratulations to Mathew for winning!

Saturday, August 17: Announced the 39th Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is vacations. PLEASE ENTER!

Also shared “Except for the Exceptions,” from a depressed mood during vacation.

Sunday, August 18: Nothing.

Monday, August 19: Enthused about receiving Stephen’s published book, The Kirkwood Scott Chronicles: Skelly’s Square (soon to be reviewed!).

Tuesday, August 20: “A Tick A Kick.”

Wednesday, August 21: Nothing. Tra-la-la.

Thursday, August 22: Today.

I also posted all this week at my motherhood site. I wrote “Hotel For …Fun?,” “The Best Thing You Can Give Your Child,” and “There’s Nothing to Eat.”

Photo Credits:
Image by tim striker from Pixabay
Image by Daniela Dimitrova from Pixabay
Image by KRISTEN FOSTER from Pixabay

 

©2019 Chelsea Owens

Except for the Exceptions

Midnight. Same as eleven. Same as ten. Same as nine eight seven six…
Except she yawned. She blinked a few more times than earlier.

Water the plants. Water the children. Water the trees vegetables flowers weeds…
Except for every other day. Except for the vegetables; they were every day.

Socks, folded. Same as shirts. Same as pants socks pajamas undies…
Except there were no exceptions.

“You should try a vacation,” they said. “I want you to be happy,” he said.
Except for when it affects me, he thought.

Except for when her happiness interferes with everyone else’s.