Seven Day Count Down

Yes, I know I have been quiet this month. I’ve been pretty busy with real life and haven’t had much of a chance to write. Wednesday March 16, my husband came in the front door; walked into the kitchen; grabbed potholders and began to walk away. For a second I thought, does he think I kept dinner warm for him in the oven (I have never done this), but he walked past the oven into the hallway?!

What are you doing?

Oh nothing, the hot water tank’s on fire.


Old water tank after gas was shut off












It was the original and 16 years old, not a bad run. We started looking into water softeners. Actually been talking about getting one for quite a few years, but weren’t looking forward to the expense. Well since we were going to need a new hot water tank, we bit the bullet and got it done at the same time. The unfortunate part, my nephew drove over here Wednesday night for a visit. All day Thursday and most of Friday, we didn’t have hot water. But Friday afternoon this shiny, sleek system was good to go.



New tank and water softener

Then when my nephew drove back to Fort Bliss on Sunday, I started working on Rachael’s graduation announcement. Finally got it done and ordered. But it looks like I’ll be addressing envelopes and sending out invites in April. Just pile more onto poetry month. 😉

Yesterday, Gretchen asked me for poetry help. Her teacher is making them write Villanelles. Aww…poor girl had to rhyme. I showed her and asked her if her teacher told them about the site. She said, No, everyone was asking Siri to come up with rhyming words.





Rhyme Tank

April will be here in a week
March poetic muse came up blank
In seven days I need a streak

Rhymes trickle out in a small leak
Frustration builds and I’m a crank
April will be here in a week

Playing with rhyme, my verse is weak
No fire consumes my water tank
In seven days I need a streak

My well is dry, nothing to speak
Of niceties as it’s quite rank
April will be here in a week

My outlook becoming more bleak
As each verse grows dreary and dank
In seven days I need a streak

Of luck to write shiny and sleek
Poems I can claim have no stank
April will be here in a week
In seven days I need a streak