The Delicate Cycle — An Adventure Story

Oh, what a tangled web we weave,

When from the washer we retrieve,

A mass of bra straps we believe,

Will never come undone.

It’s push and pull and in and out,

Your sanity is now in doubt,

From deep inside a mournful shout,

“Why won’t you come undone?!”

The hardest puzzle known to man,

Is this conundrum in your hand,

Of nylon and elastic band,

That just won’t come undone.

There must be half a dozen here,

As segments show then disappear.

Unwinding them it seems quite clear,

It should just come undone.

You stop and then you start again,

It just can’t be that hard—and then—

A knot comes loose and that is when,

It might just come undone.

For help divine you say a prayer,

To part you from this underwear,

Then in the depths of your despair,

“Thank God, it came undone!”

You pump your fist and raise your hand,

Your quarry flutters to the sand,

Sweet victory was right in hand,

But now must be redone.

Insomnia

"Insomnia is God's way of letting you know you've ticked him off."

--- Anonymous ---

I’m not sure why, but for whatever reason I had a really hard time getting to sleep last Monday night.  It’s winter here in northern Michigan.  We’d had a lot of snow and I had worked hard that day.  I was tired.  I got into a bed preheated by an electric blanket about 11:00 P.M.  And there I was.

Blink, blink.  Too hot:  Turn off the blanket.  Blink, blink.  Midnight:  Rotate right and kick off one more cover.  Blink, blink.  Twelve-thirty:  Rotate left and put that cover back on — too cold.  Blink, blink.

At 1:30 A.M. I got up and headed to the bathroom and noticed my neighbor had left his floodlight on.  Now this light doesn’t really shine directly into my bedroom, but when you’re tired and can’t sleep, any light — real or imagined — is like a searchlight from a used car lot.  You convince yourself that light is shining directly into your eyes. 

Back to bed.  Blink, blink.  Damn light !

Three A.M.:  That same light is now coming through a different window.  How does that work?

Blink, blink !

Somewhere around 3:30 A.M. I must have dozed off.  And at 4:00 A.M.:  Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep !  Smoke alarm?  Carbon monoxide detector?  Alarm clock?  What?  Oh, for God’s sake, it’s the snowplows in the restaurant parking lot.

Blink, blink, blink !!

Four-forty A.M.:  Close your eyes.  The snowplows are gone.

Four-fifty A.M.:  Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep !  The snowplows are now plowing snow from the street in front of my house.

Blink, blink, blink, blink !!!

Six A.M.:  Wide awake.  Oh, forget it!  Just get up and get the newspaper.

So I did that.  Right after I dug it out of the driveway the snowplows filled in for me.

Christmas Etiquette — Who Knew?

A couple days ago there was a segment on national television featuring an expert on Christmas etiquette.  Up to that point I was unaware there was a calling for a person in that capacity.  But it was elucidating.  Had I not been watching I may never have learned that it is ostentatious, gauche, and contrary to good breeding to display all of your Christmas cards.  I did not know that.  The last thing I want is to be perceived as pretentious.  So, I immediately took down one of our two cards.

Decorating the Christmas Tree

While decorating the tree today I started my lights at the top.

After string twenty-three,

I could readily see,

There were more than enough.  I could stop.

So I plugged in the lights I had worked on all day to see how they looked just for fun.

I was sure I could quit,

Cause everyone lit.

Except, of course, string number one.

I brought back the ladder and climbed up the steps to test both the fuses

in-line.

I started to think,

That the lights were the link,

Since both of the fuses were fine.

Then I spent three more hours while awkwardly balanced replacing each lamp on the string.

When I got to the end,

I could not comprehend,

That I hadn’t accomplished a thing.

I was tired and perplexed after all of my efforts and frustrated right to the core.

But, I calmed myself down,

And turning around,

Pitched the tree through the sliding glass door.

Copyright © 2010 by David Mertz