Yellow Doodle Bug

yellow-doodle-bug

Oh come on. I’m not going to make fun of this. I just wanted to point out that this isn’t a famous or historical or even (as far as I can tell) actually published poem; it was written by somebody named Prissy, for somebody named Pat, to thank them for driving them to church.

There once was a yellow doodle bug
That arrived at my door
And drove me to church to sing
One headlight went up

And one pointed down
But this car was blessed by the King.

You see, Pat wore many hats
But one was to see
That I made it to church on time.
Because of her finesse,
I made it to Missionettes
And learned how Jesus turned water to wine.

So the next time you see
A teen with a need
Be sure to lend them a hand,
Because people like Pat
Are just special like that
In helping others see the promised land.

As for how this sweet gift ended up at Goodwill next to an electric pizza-cutter…there’s no possible happy answer for that, so it’s best not to dwell.

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Narnia Fever Dream

A number of weeks ago, I teased that I visited this one estate sale that deserved its own post—not only because it encompassed two separate buildings and had as many goods for sale as a typical Wal-Mart (and, let’s be honest, about the same quality)—but because including it as an aside in a post about golden toothbrushes and laxative-themed thermometers just wouldn’t do it justice.

This estate sale was a thing of wonder. Epic poems could be written about the journey one had to take to get from one end of it to the other—winding through alleyways of cardboard boxes, up and down creaking, crusty staircases with little pieces crumbling off with each step—I swear I even got lost at one point and had to ask for directions. It was by far the biggest sale I’ve ever been to in Connecticut, encompassing both a two-story home and a three-story barn.

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