MORAL

It was a bit of a DRIVE, but the dessert simply couldn’t be prepared without getting more FLOUR. We had been at the cottage for less than 6 hours. In the country for slightly longer than that. I sighed. “Hey, do you mind if we run to the store? I know it was hard getting here, and even harder to go out now, but i really can’t finish what I am doing without it. And there are probably other things we should get.” You give me a jet-lagged look. “Please??” You nod, grab the keys. We get in the rental car. “Watch out! Do you see that truck??” I hear you sigh. “LORRY.” “Excuse me?” “They don’t call them trucks over here. They are lorries.” “Huh. Sounds fancy. Or maybe like a parakeet, you know, those at the zoo. Lorikeets.” This elicits silence. And then, laughter. Then I start, and there we are, weaving down some narrow English country road, giggling about silly words, while trying to get supplies so I could make a cake that we didn’t really need, but seemed important, because what is vacation for if not to do ridiculous things and have adventures? I suppose the MORAL of that story is that sometimes the stressful moments produce unexpected joys.

Georg’ann

Government was WRONG.
COURT rules go all directions
none affect outcome.
Best BOXER can’t land a punch.
ROYAL screwups, no matter.
Lowest rungs of humanity
operating, no MORAL compass.

Heather