Dotty

We have a dog named Polkadot.

For short, we call him Dotty.

The reason that we call him that

is cause he’s really spotty.

Dotty loves to chase our cat,

so then we yell out “DOTTY!”

He doesn’t stop, but chases more

because that dog is naughty!

He likes to chew our socks and shoes,

and once he ate a pie,

cause Mom had left it within reach

and he’s a naughty guy.

But even though he does those things

that make my family mad,

he sure can be the sweetest dog

and make us feel so glad.

And that’s because if we feel sick,

he’ll cuddle us all day

until the illness disappears —

yes, at our side, he’ll stay.

He is the kindest little nurse

whenever we feel crappy,

and cause he will not leave our side,

our cat is also happy!

The Painful Lesson

I wrote a story in Grade 3;

Mom said she loved my work.

My brother Danny read it too,

and it just made him smirk.

Later, when we were alone,

he said it was plain dumb,

but I didn’t believe him

and that was cause of Mom.

When cleaning out my room today,

my story reappeared,

and today, I’m in Grade 4 —

I’ve grown another year!

I read my story, every word,

and couldn’t put it down,

and when I finished reading it,

all I could do was frown.

It was about some goblins

who opened up a store,

and then they just decided

to go and fight a war.

They fought the war for three years —

then suddenly, they won,

and then they started dancing!

The story was then done.

The story is confusing

and really makes no sense.

The more I thought about it,

the more I just got tense.

The thing the story taught me

is last year I was dumb,

and that my brother Danny

is smarter than my mom!

My Brother Ate a Worm Last Night

My brother ate a worm last night

which really made me cry.

I thought because he ate that worm

that he would surely die.

And if he died, I knew for sure

that I would be to blame,

cause when he said he’d eat a worm

I really mocked his claim.

I said, “There’s no way, Chicken Boy,

I know you’d be too scared!”

“I’m not a chicken!” Tommy said,

and then he really glared.

And then he started digging dirt

and said, “I’ll find one here.

You think that I’m a Chicken Boy,

but see — I have no fear!”

“Don’t be dumb,” I said right then.

“A worm will make you die!”

But now he was determined,

and I began to cry.

And then, he found a great big worm

and brushed off all the dirt.

He said, “See, I’m no Chicken Boy,

and this won’t even hurt!”

So then, in one gulp, it was gone,

and I let out a scream,

but Tommy now just danced around

and his eyes did gleam.

Suddenly, my brother dropped

and then lay on the ground.

I knew, at once, that he was dead!

I sobbed and looked around.

I cried some more as Tommy lay

because I was to blame,

and all the guilt that I then felt

filled me full of shame!

But soon, I noticed Tommy’s smile

which meant he wasn’t dead,

and since my brother scared me so,

“I’ll get you!” I then said.

And now I’m planning what I’ll do

to make my brother pay.

A garter snake will be involved

and that’s all I will say.

I Really Love Potato Chips

I really love potato chips.

I love them with all kinds of dips.

Garlic, dill, and cheesy cheese

are assured to always please.

On cereal, I’ll drop some chips

(and when I do, my mother flips).

At lunch, the rippled chip is best —

it holds more dip I do attest.

At dinner, chips go well with meat

and veggie dishes — they complete!

Yes, chips are great with every meal.

There is no end to their appeal.

I love to hear the chips go crunch,

as the chips I gaily munch,

but cause of chips, what’s not so great,

is now I have to lose some weight!

Food Play

Billy liked his Cheerios.

He liked to put them in neat rows.

His spaghetti, he would loop,

around his fork with lots of goop.

He’d pitch a grape which then would drop

into his mouth and loudly plop.

With mashed potatoes he would play,

moulding shapes like they were clay.

Yes, food, he thought, was just plain fun,

as he juggled one last bun,

and so for Christmas, this dear boy,

asked for Jello — not a toy!

“The Mohawk”

My brother got a mohawk,

and that kid sure looks dumb.

He went and got a haircut,

his first time without Mom.

And so he got a mohawk —

he thought it would be cool,

but now he has his mohawk

and feels just like a fool.

My mom is really angry

cause Bobby looks so dumb.

He knows he’s been a moron,

and so he’s really glum.

Mom says she’ll shave his mohawk,

and you can bet on that,

so Bob will be the bald kid

who always wears a hat.

The Bad Joke

My dog is sitting in our car,

and I can tell he’s mad.

His tail is sure not wagging

which means he isn’t glad.

I’d thought it would be funny

to play a little joke,

and so I’d hollered “Car, car!”

My sleeping dog awoke.

His tail began a-wagging,

just like I knew it would,

so in the driveway by the car

the two of us soon stood.

I opened up the car door,

and Henry jumped inside,

and then I started laughing

and called him to my side.

But Henry wasn’t budging.

His tail no longer wagged.

“Come here, Boy! We’ll go inside,”

I whined before I nagged.

So now my folks are mad at me

and said that it was bad

to get poor Henry all worked up

then make poor Henry sad.

And so they have decided,

and I’ll admit I cried

cause extra chores I now must do

while Henry gets a ride.

Other Things #28 – I’m Checking Out for Awhile

I’m going to be taking a little time off from my blog because, at this point, I don’t want to have any deadlines at all. I’m Type A to the point that I have to post once a week, my commitment to myself, or I won’t be happy because even self-imposed deadlines have the ability to cause me stress.

My life has been increasingly difficult for several months because last summer, I was diagnosed with advance osteoarthritis in both of my hips. I was stunned since I hadn’t been feeling pain in my hips, and still don’t, for the most part. My family doctor suggested that he refer me to a surgeon so I could get on the list for hip replacements as I would be needing them, and it can take a while to even see a surgeon, let alone have the operation.

Within a few weeks of the referral, I was sitting in the surgeon’s office, and he told me that he was putting me on the “urgent” list. Once more, I was stunned. I didn’t feel “urgent” — just awkward. I could have had my operation soon after that, but I told the medical people that I wanted to finish my school semester and have the operation in the spring when I had several months off.

I got through the semester well enough, and I’m happy that I waited, but I have started walking with a cane and climbing the staircase to the second floor is becoming quite a challenge.

I have now been given a surgery date of May 2. I’m thrilled that I’m finally going to have the operation because I do want to get on with it so that I will be doing well by the fall when I’ll return to school. Most of all, I want to be able to walk with ease and climb stairs. Both hips will be done in the same operation, unless the doctor decides to do only one. I’m a healthy type, more or less, so I expect that all will be well and both hips will be done at once.

After the operation, naturally, there will be a number of weeks of unpleasant recovery, but I’m feeling grateful that I’m living at a time when hip replacement surgery is commonplace. I’m also thankful that Canada has the healthcare system it does have and that I don’t have to worry about the cost of any of it. I’m thankful I have a husband who has been helping me as much as he can and will do all that he can to help me after surgery. I’m thankful for the daily phone support of my sister who lives in Vancouver, and I’m thankful for the support system I have from my many good friends.

When I’m through all the “drama of recovery” and I feel up to facing deadlines, I’ll get back to blogging. I hope I’ll be able to write some poetry as I’m recovering, and I’ll doubtless be reading your blogs. I greatly appreciate that you take the time to read The Lonely Meatball which is why I’ve filled you in on what’s been happening in my life and will be happening soon. So, until we meatball again! (I know that’s pathetic, but I couldn’t stop myself.)

The Hunt

Nancy has the meanest dog;

they tell me he broke free,

and that the rotten flea-bag

is hunting now for me.

You see, I am the paper-boy

who tries to do his best,

but it really isn’t my fault

that rotten dog’s obsessed.

I must deliver papers

before the hour of eight,

and when I get to Nancy’s,

I see the dog I hate.

He barks and growls hysterically

the whole time I am there.

His leash is my salvation,

but he gives me quite a scare.

So I quickly throw the paper,

cause I know he wants me dead,

but it really isn’t my fault,

it keeps landing on his head.

This is the first poem I posted on this blog, and since few people have read it, and it is one of my favourite poems, I decided to repost it.

My Brother’s April Fools’ Day

On April 1st, my brother, Fred,

couldn’t believe what I had said.

I’d said that if the wind was right,

even trucks could be in flight.

“Of course,” I said, “it is the truth;

a truck could land right on our roof.

Even cows can fly around.”

Now my brother really frowned.

“It’s April 1st,” he said to me,

“and what you say just cannot be.

Trucks and cows sure cannot fly!

I’m not a fool — I know you lie!”

“I know I’m right,” I said with glee,

“but why not make a bet with me.

A bag of chips will be the pay.”

He shook my hand without delay.

On April 1st, dear Fred did learn

tornados are a real concern.

I knew he’d doubt me on that day,

and that the chips he’d have to pay!