A Poem Shared

I had a couple of things I was going to write about this morning; like the ice on the windshield of my unheated car that I tried to scrape off with Border's Rewards card after trying, unsuccessfully, to locate my real ice scraper. Or, the fact that I came home to a disaster in the bathroom last night because Hubby (bless his handy heart) had worked for several hours on installing the new light fixture and medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The mess didn't even bother me. Or, that (thanks to KB) I'm becoming a good cook. I made a recipe that KB sent me for baked ziti - and it turned out fabulously! I even made garlic bread - and didn't burn it! But...that was all before LW sent this to me. ****

T’was The Month After Christmas T’was the month after Christmas, and all through the house, Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The cookies I'd nibbled, the chocolate I'd taste At the holiday parties had gone to my waist. When I got on the scales there arose such a number! When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber), I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please." As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt... I said to myself, as I only can, "You can't spend a winter, disguised as a man!" So, away with the last of the sour cream dip. Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip. Every last bit of food that I like must be banished Till all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a cookie, not even a lick. I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick. I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie. I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore... But isn't that what January is for? Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.

**** I don't know who originally wrote it, where it came from or anything about it except that I loved it enough - felt close enough to it - to share it with you. And, though I would LOVE to be able to take credit for writing it, I did not. TTFN JMS