June 18, 2012

Haircut

Geesh i kept telling you i didn’t know how to cut hair but no you didn’t listen did you.Well now look at what you ended up with its very scary is it not.And just think now you will have to wear a hat or a wig or something over that head to hide what i did but you can’t complain too much i did warn you huh.But omg i still can’t stop laughing you do look funny. Should have stopped moving that head so much maybe it wouldn’t have turned out so bad then i might have been able to put a perm in what was left of it laughing.Well it is funny maybe one of these adorable ladies here at phoneamommy.com can fix it since i did make a royal mess.Anyone else needing a nice haircut hehehehe Doris 1.888.430.2010
October 18, 2010

A Boy Named Sue

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, and he didn’t leave much to Ma and me, just this old guitar and a bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, but the meanest thing that he ever did was before he left he went and named me Sue. Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke, and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks, it seems I had to fight my whole life through. Some gal would giggle and I’d get red and some guy would laugh and I’d bust his head, I tell you, life ain’t easy for a boy named Sue. Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean. My fist got hard and my wits got keen. Roamed from town to town to hide my shame, but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars, I’d search the honky tonks and bars and kill that man that gave me that awful name. But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had just hit town and my throat was dry. I’d thought i’d stop and have myself a brew. At an old saloon in a street of mud and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me Sue. Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad from a worn-out picture that my mother had and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye. He was big and bent and gray and old and I looked at him and my blood ran cold, and I said, “My name is Sue. How do you do? Now you’re gonna die.” Yeah, that’s what I told him. Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down but to my surprise he came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair right across his teeth. And we crashed through the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. I tell you I’ve fought tougher men but I really can’t remember when. He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile. I heard him laughin’ and then I heard him cussin’, he went for his gun and I pulled mine first. He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile. And he said, “Son, this world is rough and if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough and I knew I wouldn’t be there to help you along. So I gave you that name and I said ‘Goodbye’. I knew you’d have to get tough or die. And it’s that name that helped to make you strong.” Yeah, he said, “Now you have just fought one helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you’ve got the right to kill me now and I wouldn’t blame you if you do. But you ought to thank me before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit in your eye because I’m the nut that named you Sue.” Yeah, what could I do? What could I do? I got all choked up and I threw down my gun, called him pa and he called me a son, and I came away with a different point of view and I think about him now and then. Every time I tried, every time I win and if I ever have a son I think I am gonna name him Bill or George – anything but Sue. by Shel Silverstein Lily i love this poem it is so cute and funny
June 22, 2010

The Fieldmouse

Where the acorn tumbles down, Where the ash tree sheds its berry, With your fur so soft and brown, With your eye so round and merry, Scarcely moving the long grass, Fieldmouse, I can see you pass. Little thing, in what dark den, Lie you all the winter sleeping? Till warm weather comes again, Then once more I see you peeping Round about the tall tree roots, Nibbling at their fallen fruits. Fieldmouse, fieldmouse, do not go, Where the farmer stacks his treasure, Find the nut that falls below, Eat the acorn at your pleasure, But you must not steal the grain He has stacked with so much pain. Make your hole where mosses spring, Underneath the tall oak’s shadow, Pretty, quiet harmless thing, Play about the sunny meadow. Keep away from corn and house, None will harm you, little mouse. Cecil Frances Alexander Lily