Bachelorhood doesn't fit very well anymore. Mary flew off to Minneapolis to help with Clint and Robyn's kids for the week. Around here doors don't slam, pots and pans aren't banging, the wash machine isn't swishing, I'm eating in cafes, nothing much is going on. So here I sit just feeling sorry for myself. I guess I'll just have to start following orders: watering the plants, vacuuming the carpet, mowing the grass, and picking up my mess! P.S. I had fun writing the limerick. Maybe I'll try a few more of them.
