BOLAS
Necklace of polished stones
with chunky badge attached . . .
Where most women see bling
Ada sees bolas! I'll swing
it round and round my head
till it whistles like the wind.
I'll make for his Garden Shed.
(Are you with me, followers
and fans?) Whey-hey!
It's Smash Some Plant Pots Day!
Interpretation and comprehension of this Opus will be helped by reading
earlier posts about Caddoc Trellis's Beloved Garden Shed.
Oh, Mrs T - I do believe, in the best pantomime tradition, I could almost say 'LOOK OUT! HE'S BEHIND YOU!
ReplyDeleteYou are witty, I like your style. Yes, why not. 'Smash 'em till kingdom come!'. More from you Ma'am.
ReplyDeleteOH MY! I do admire your style, wit and talent!
ReplyDelete(did you mean to write 'it' rather than 'is' in line 5?)
Thank you, Helen. I did mean "it". Corrected now.
ReplyDeleteAs I write my comment concerning your words about bling. I realize Mrs. Trellis the only bling you need is Caddoc on your arm.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fate for Hanuman! :-)
ReplyDeleteBerowne . . I think Hanuman is tougher than old plant pots.
ReplyDeleteKristen . . . .Some fate!
have a swingin' good time...careful not to get locked up in the shed
ReplyDeleteLove your outpourings. Nice Magpie.
ReplyDeleteIt's refreshing to come upon a blogger who (seems to) enjoy having a bit of fun with the prompts on Magpie, etc. But . . . I can believe the terra-cotta pots splinter easily before your determined onslaughts, but what about the modern, (vile) plastic ones?
ReplyDeletenew meaning to being a "swinger" hahah Great post!
ReplyDeleteOh Ada, now you've done it. Think what awful revenge might be brewing over in Chateau Caddoc.
ReplyDeleteSeconds out, first (umpteenth) round, DINGGG
A second thought! Mrs.T . . I am reluctant to cross swords with one as formidable as yourself, but are you not mistaken in calling your rotary pot-breaker a "BOLO"? I think the word is actually "BOLAS" (Spanish, a sort of weighted lassoo once used by South American gauchos for bringing down cattle by flinging the weapon so that it wrapped round their forelegs) . . but feel free to seek me out and kill me if I'm wrong etc.
ReplyDeleteGreat post haha, loved it
ReplyDeleteWell, well, Doctor FTSE. It is rare indeed for a man to be right and a woman, particularly Ada, to be wrong! I have changed the offending word, and I hope you are pleased with your pathetic little victory. Caddoc will pay for this humiliation.
ReplyDeleteAll you others. You might THINK it's funny. You wouldn 't think anything was funny if you had to live with Caddoc the Haddock. So there!
LOVE!!!
ReplyDeleteThanx for finding me!!you have a very special blog!!I follow you!!See you later..(Have to go to work..))
Kisses and hugs and everything good to you!!
I have a feeling there is a Haddock in even the best of husbands: mine is glooming and crabby because Scotland took a thrashing from the All Blacks this afternoon. In disgust, he turned over to Come Dine with Me, which he loathes!
ReplyDeleteDear Madame, I call for your aid!
ReplyDeleteThe Doctor has said that you made
mince meat of plant pots? How nice!
I need to mince meat some mice.
Could I borrow your bolas? Although
you may need to teach me to throw
such contraptions, I'm sure we
could work together, you see.
I look forward to meeting
and exchanging fond greetings.
Heehee, it's really not that heavy! I do enjoy smashing old clay pots for shards, though.
ReplyDeleteO woe, I am undone!
ReplyDeleteYou know that we are one!
I, your Haddock, come
humbly, seeking fun...
PS. I forgive you for the plant pots, but remain a trifle wary of your Bolas...
I can just see you swinging it round your head...... lovely!
ReplyDelete