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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Pandamic Poems

The following poems started out as one poem.  The humorus Shortage Gold began to write itself during a visit to the restroom at work, but quickly turned more serious as I fleshed it out later that night.  Then a problem presented itself: I wanted to end the poem upbeat, with a photo I took.  Try as I might, I could not envision the segue from serious to upbeat.

After several days struggling to force the poems into what I thought they should be, I finally gave in and allowed them to be who they wrote themselves to be individually: 

 Shortage Gold and Enough! 

The title Enough! can be taken several ways:  Enough! of the crazy-panic.   Or,  we have Enough! for everyone if we practice being good neighbors and citizens.

Without further ado here are Shortage Gold and Enough!  I hope they are entertaining and perhaps thought provoking.


Shortage Gold
I stopped by the work bathroom
and what did my eyes  see?
Treasure more precious than silver or gold--
'twas a partial roll of TP!


Enough!
In the age of COVID-19:
The latest Pandamic Scare--
I went to  shop for groceries
but alas the shelves were bare.

The hoarders panic-purchased
every item in the store--
even with pantries full at home
they felt the need to buy more.

The Psychology of Scarcity
fans the flames of panic-fire:
Since we are amassing goods
the situation must be dire.

You buy a pallet of diapers
so I require at least three.
No matter that I have no babes
it's my jerk-reacting knee.

Next comes our dear sweet neighbor
whose twins truly have a need
but nary a diaper is found
due to our panic-driven greed.

By buying only what we need
we leave products on the shelves
so neighbors can get necessities 
and we feel better about ourselves.

We're all in this together folks.
There's plently if we just share.
If you do your part, and I do mine
store shelves will be full gain--not bare.



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