Weathering New York Weather
By Madeleine Begun Kane
The weather outside isn’t nice,
And the walks are all covered with ice.
I seem to recall
That it’s technic’ly fall.
Would I leave New York City? No dice!
(You can find more of my seasonal (and holiday) humor here and more of my New York humor here.)
These two horse-related poems were loosely inspired by this week’s Totally Optional Prompt:
First, a limerick:
A Horse of A Different Color
By Madeleine Begun Kane
There are folks who succumb to a weakness
For races like Belmont and Preakness.
But there’s only one horse
Race I’ll bet on—the course
To the White House—a sign of my geekness?
And now, a haiku about New York City:
Trumpeting cars horns.
Clip-clopping carriage horses.
Central Park Sunday.
(You can find more of my horse humor here.)
My husband Mark and I were never meant to own a motor boat. Why not? Any couple who can’t figure out how to open their car hood, should probably stick to something propelled by oars. And we surely would have done just that, had the prior owner of our weekend home not made it a package deal. If we wanted his irresistible house, we’d have to spring for his 120 horse power boat — perfect for anyone whose idea of relaxation is charging across a rocky three mile lake at the speed of screams.
OUR FIRST TIME OUT: My husband — a man who can build a wood stove fire in a flash, who whips up gourmet feasts in fifteen languages — couldn’t figure out how to unhook the boat’s cover. Refusing my help, he struggled for an hour. Victorious at last he hurled the cover off, in the process spilling gallons of water all over the boat.
By then I was ready to bail out. But Mark handed me a pail, and we spent the next 45 minutes heaving water overboard. Once all the water was safely under the boat, it was time to begin boating. I optimistically climbed onto our 16 footer, while my husband worked the knots from ashore. A former boy scout, he did this rather well. So well, that the boat (free at last) started to drift without him. …. (Motor Boating Just Isn’t Our Speed continues here.)
Bugged By Mosquitoes (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Mosquitoes are driving me mad.
Seems a zillion are biting me—bad!
Sprays and lotions don’t work;
They keep chomping and lurk,
While ignoring my husband—the cad!
Update: August 20 is World Mosquito Day.
Is It Spring Yet?
By Madeleine Begun Kane
We are having a foul-weather bout—
Lots of snow, sleet, and hail—not a drought.
Cabin fever has struck,
And my husband feels stuck,
Trapped indoors, starved for sun—must go out.
Here’s another limerick about our recent New York snow and ice storm:
The Up Side Of Winter
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Outside our abode, it ain’t nice;
There’s snow on the ground and there’s ice.
But I’m snug in my house—
Just me and my spouse
And our mouse. Leave this haven? No dice!
My latest limerick was inspired by this week’s New York weather:
Wintry Woes
By Madeleine Begun Kane
In winter, a job I’d not pick
Is wielding an ice pick, when sick.
I abhor it, when well
And, when ill, well, it’s hell.
Oh my heavens, the hail’s coming quick!
Surmounting Marriage
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Before agreeing to marry my husband Mark, I asked him the usual questions:
Mark told the appropriate fibs, I pretended to believe him, and several months later we wed. But soon after the wedding, I realized I’d forgotten to ask the most important question of all: When you see a mountain, do you get an irresistible urge to do something stupid? (Surmounting Marriage is continued here.)
Ode To Ambling
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Deserting my day-to-day scramble
When the weather is nice, I will amble,
Just taking my time
While I’m still in my prime,
My terminus strictly a gamble.
Ode To Autumn
By Madeleine Begun Kane
The most colorful season of all
Is autumn, which many call fall.
It’s the time when leaves die
In a feast for the eye,
And fat turkeys await their last call.
Planning a vacation can often be a daunting challenge. Especially when one spouse likes to rough it and the other prefers luxuries like toilets, showers, and cable TV. So what’s a couple to do? Well, they can take separate trips. Or they can negotiate and sign on the dotted line.
AGREEMENT, entered into this _________, 20__ by Husband and Wife.
WHEREAS, Husband’s ideal vacation requires hiking boots, compasses, sleeping bags, and knapsacks and doesn’t cost a dime;
WHEREAS, Wife’s ideal vacation requires a five star resort;
WHEREAS, Husband is a spontaneous kind of guy who likes to pick his trips by throwing a coin onto a trail map; … (Taking A Vacation On The Contract Plan is continued here.)
Tubing — the masochistic act of hurtling down a fall-fraught river while clinging to an inner tube. Somehow my husband Mark talked me, a devout wimp, into trying it.
Why did I go along for the rocky river ride? Perhaps I was dazed by the beauty of the Catskill Mountains’ Esopus River. Perhaps the brave (or foolish) teens who plunged heedlessly into the Esopus shamed me into it. Or maybe I was feeling guilty for being a perennial naysayer. Whatever the reason, one summer day I broke my first rule of survival: If they advise helmets, avoid it.
Before risking the river we signed a paper saying our survivors couldn’t sue. Then Mark paced while I interrogated the clerk about safety. Jagged rock protection was high on her (and my) list. Sneakers for the feet, a helmeted head, and plywood in the tube to protect the tush.
After a short, steep bus ride up river, the driver said “Just throw your tubes into the river and get in.” He pointed towards what looked suspiciously like waterfalls.
Foolish me, I’d assumed there’d be an attendant to provide advice, guidance, and moral support. And to hold the damn tube in place long enough for me to lower myself onto it and grab its pathetic excuse for handles. At the very least, they could have posted a sign saying, “Start your death ride here.” … (Tubing Blues is continued here.)
Mad Kane (Madeleine Begun Kane) is a writer, musician, and "recovering lawyer." She won the Robert Benchley Society Award For Humor and enjoys writing limericks, song parodies, and current events haiku.
You can email her at madkane@madkane.com, visit her political humor blog, or stop by her home page.
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