Cheeky Missy

Ahem, Happy...Yes, [curtsies, clumsily]

...for half a day, at least, haha.

I Finally Know Which Weekday Tis

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLIII)

Rain lightly dances, where in that detail

An om\'nous note seems lurks, til driving hence

Oh, how the highway\'s white, with tracks cut thence

Through by our passage, as ice or snow\'d avail.

Work, as wont, turns all \'round til we\'d \'most fail

To see ahead straight, yet Thy mercies, our defense,

Ne\'er fail, and, new each morning, leave pretense

Aside to give us hope while dreams ask bail.

When all is oer we\'ll see again in tour

It wasna so bad after all. We knew

E\'en fun in measure, if to smile\'s not poor.

Likeas Thy psalmist wrote, to count maunt do

For they\'re more than be numbered. Come, bestir

In us to sing Thy praise as we wait You.

27Dec24a

...Walker\'s shortbread cookies, to be precise; then memories of the Scottich cookbook my parents had resurfaced, whose recipe for shortbread sported a long essay the upshot of which damned me as \"...only a BAD COOK will add things: shortbread ONLY HAS 3 INGREDIENTS.\" or somesuch. And I used to make that recipe way too many years ago.

So, Nothing Extra Fancy Here

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLIV)

Mull groc\'ry shopping til I\'m wanting thence

Lo, Sco\'ish shortbread. Craft it to avail

Me, all myself?! The antique cookbook, frail

As dreams, is not mine to use \'gin fr\'intents,

So Google rec\'pes with the ling\'ring sense

Of that page whose keen warning yet\'d detail

Aught finds: \"...bad cooks will add stuff.\" t\'will derail

Some, but I know where I am headed hence.

I knew twas only three ingred\'ents fer

All that, or maybe four, no more, else rue

Thy folly, \"bad\" cook. I\'ll need butter. Were

There else, I have\'t. \"Have with tea,\" is that true?

Me wants to try that. Sco\'ish, known as poor

Back in the day, what\'s new? LORD, save me too.

27Dec24b

So there. [What\'s with a gigantic motorhome the other day, and today a semi, literally driving out of their lane to push me off the road when I speed ahead on the ramp, then going back into their lane on the interstate as I try to figure out who\'s trying to kill me????? I didn\'t believe in PTSD until now.]

Don\'t Ask and I\'ll Not Tell

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLV)

From semis with an urge to kill sans bail,

To nary sleep \'cept two nights all week, whence?

No less than three sites Friday: if my sense

Is badly screwed, thank all the madness. Frail,

Yet trying to stay atop, oh LORD, avail

Me, for despite my efforts, all\'s pretense.

I\'m begging for dear sleep, recov\'ry hence

In mind, if only, fearing to ask\'d fail.

Thanks, thanks for all Thy mercies which in tour,

New ev\'ry morning, never fail. I knew

Ere this week t\'would be tough, and feared for sure,

Yet Thou art my God and all is of You.

Tis Saturday; I\'m fragile. Come, bestir

Thy mercies, save me now. I wait anew.

28Dec24