Posts tagged husband

More Husband Haiku

In a couple of months Dimples and I will celebrate five years of marriage. I adore him from the bottom of my heart, especially when he lets me tease him for all of his eccentric ways. He constantly amazes me with his wit,  charm, whining, moaning and humor. If anyone has ever made me feel beautiful and loved, it’s my Dimples.

Cry Baby, Cry ~
husband in much pain
much crying, moaning, whining
has paper cut on pinky

Poor Wifey ~
lonely blog widow
always coming in second
oops, computer dies ; )

Sugar Daddy ~
wine tasting event
husband tries white zinfandel
adds sugar for taste

I love you Dimples, even though your taste in wine is, shall we say, inconceivable!


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To Camp or not to Camp, Part 2

Rise oh mighty fire...RISE!

My darling husband makes for such a good subject. Thankfully he takes it well, mostly cause he knows it’s true. One day while he was sick in bed with a horrible migraine headache, a few silly poems popped in my . Yes, I kicked my man when he was down, however once again, anyone who knows my dearest, knows that this is a 100% Dimples all the way.  Last week I bought you “Husband Poetry“, this week, I bring you “Husband Haiku”. A compilation of two forms  of Haiku poetry (very loosely based of course). Traditional style Haiku and Tanka poetry.


Haiku  (5-7-5 onji format)

Camping Part Duex ~

wood is smoldering

my fire skills inadequate

wife starts huge bonfire

Tanka (5-7-5-7-7 onji format)

Veggie Pants ~

dirty pants on floor

a science experiment

how long will they stay

two month later pants grow mold

four months and have fresh mushrooms

In your Face ~

put leftovers in fridge

let husband know for lunches

husband dies of hunger pains

can’t see leftovers at eye level

Baby, it’s cold out there~

forgot the jacket

doesn’t like to be mothered

it’s freezing cold out

pouts that I forgot jacket

calls mother to whine

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To Camp or not to Camp, oh why do I do this to myself!

Standard issue camping attire

Ah, Dimples. I gotta love him. First, I taught him how to fish, which turned into near disaster. Then we went camping. I’m a glutton for punishment. This poem came to my brain as I was tossing and turning in a thin sleeping bag, whilst Dimples was snoring comfortably with ALL the extra blankets. Anyone who knows my dearest husband, knows that this poem is a 100% representation of his bad self.

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Totally out of his safety zone
Longing for the comfort of his sterile home

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Not one to mess with Na-ture
Can’t even start a Fi-re

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Thinking fondly of computer programm-ing
And staying up late World of Warcraft-ing

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Scared of buzzing insects always bit-ing
Protecting food and drink with lots of nett-ing

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Nowhere to “go” but in the sticky brush
Wishing there was a place to sit and flush

Husband, Oh Hus-band

Face full of pain and very concentrate-ed
It’s been five long days since he has poop-ed

Husband, Oh Hus-band


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Resurrection of a Blog

Date of last entry; 6/18/2008. Whoa! I started with such good intent. I wonder what happened? I vaguely remember the last few years…I think. I quit the job I had when I started this blog, it’s now been two crazy jobs later. I’ve aged. I don’t feel it, but my hair has definitely grayed. My then teenager is now 21. The Husband and I are still married five years strong this year (that’s always a good thing!). Pretty sure I’ve gained some weight. Turned Vegetarian. I moved from the home my son and I lived in for 15 years into brand new home. it’s a rental, but oh so wonderful. I’ve started a new creative outlet or two, created a new genre of  silly Haiku and Poetry, read lots of books, seen lots a movies. For unknown reasons I’ve managed to alienate some friends and family. Made some new friends and have a new grandson. Most importantly, I have successfully avoided MySpace, Facebook and Twitter. I shall forge on with this diary of my life, such as it is. And even though I really have nothing to talk about, I have so much to say!

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts.

– William Shakespeare

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