Okay, so maybe I'm not a boot wearer. . .
I kind of forgot that I had a breakfast meeting at a drug rehab and AIDS center this morning, and I chickened out on wearing the boots - thinking that maybe, just maybe, they might suggest keeping me and my polka-dotted boots there for observation.
So I'm wearing 'em now. Yes, I have declared them my Official Blogging Boots.
So now you can all picture me. . . sitting in my bedroom on a "ficker" (fake wicker) chair at a beautiful antique desk surrounded by The Complete Works of Jane Austen, a "forchid" (you guessed it. . . fake orchid) a tall wicker basket filled with various hand and body lotions, a copy of Jame's Joyce's Dubliners, and an Asian-motif lamp - blogging on my oldest daughter's discarded laptop (she abso-tutely needed a new Macbook) with stickers on the front from my virtual vacation (otherwise known as her semester abroad) some of which are not in my native tongue, but one of which is in a form of a plaid peace symbol and very clearly reads Up Yer Kilt!!!
Yes, my friends, all this while sitting in a pair of pink polka-dot boots! (A pair of boots, I might add, that are starting to feel a little snug. I'll admit I never actually tried them before purchasing them in T.J. Maxx, and they may, in fact, be cutting off my circulation at this point, but I will soldier on. . . )
I'm sure I can be a better thing than a fun-loving, life-grabbing, boot-wearer. . .
It just might take me a while to think of it.
So God, please don't let me die soon, because my Eulogy's not quite ready for prime time.
But, on a more positive note, I just checked my manuscript and found a Limerick about polka-dots, and - lo and behold - it even included a kilt!!! (Is life not funny sometimes???) And so, here it is for your reading pleasure . . .
When Tartan Met Dot
There once was a young man named Brad,
who liked to wear outrageous plaids.
He was never the type,
to don a nice stripe,
but only in tartan was clad.
Sometimes you would think our good friend,
would try a new fashion or trend,
but a paisley or check,
would make him a wreck,
and never his rules would he bend.
Until the first day he met Dot,
whose outfit was patterned with spots,
he couldn’t deny,
that Dot caught his eye,
and soon these two kids tied the knot.
On the day that our bridegroom got hitched,
his wardrobe became quite enriched.
He was dressed to the hilt,
but his blackwatch plaid kilt,
with bright fuchsia speckles was stitched!
Out of their chairs those two got,
and out on the dance floor they shot.
They both looked beguiled,
and the crowd all went wild,
‘when Brad danced the polka with Dot!
There once was a young man named Brad,
who liked to wear outrageous plaids.
He was never the type,
to don a nice stripe,
but only in tartan was clad.
Sometimes you would think our good friend,
would try a new fashion or trend,
but a paisley or check,
would make him a wreck,
and never his rules would he bend.
Until the first day he met Dot,
whose outfit was patterned with spots,
he couldn’t deny,
that Dot caught his eye,
and soon these two kids tied the knot.
On the day that our bridegroom got hitched,
his wardrobe became quite enriched.
He was dressed to the hilt,
but his blackwatch plaid kilt,
with bright fuchsia speckles was stitched!
Out of their chairs those two got,
and out on the dance floor they shot.
They both looked beguiled,
and the crowd all went wild,
‘when Brad danced the polka with Dot!
So, drop everything you're doing and enter my Limerick Contest today. The big day is quickly approaching!
So, I'm only gonna say this here. . . but do you not think it's amazing that I connected polka-dots and kilts without consciously knowing I had a limerick about them??? C R A Z Y ! ! !
