While driving around, by and by,
We spotted some doors 8 feet high.
Not sure what’s the reason –
Are stairs out of season?
Or maybe these Newfies can fly!

This limerick illustrates one of my favorite travel mysteries. Why do people in Newfoundland have front doors many feet in the air? I asked a number of local residents, and they just scratched their heads. Then one fellow, who was particularly fast on his feet, said with a grin, “We call those ‘Mother-in-law doors’.”

There once was a big ding-a-ling
Who put her poor cat on a string
Said the cat, “It’s a bore,
But it lets me explore,
So I guess I’ll get used to this thing.”

We’re parked on the street in Spokane
Where wi-fi is free, on demand
But our home town is calling
(though rain there is falling)
We’ll get there as soon as we can!

There once was a lady, Loraine
Who brought us in out of the rain
She fed us some beef
And read my tea leaf
She’s Grandma, and long may she reign!

I don’t comprehend much these days,
Just one or two words from a phrase
It’s just, when I speak
I sound like a freak
My French accent’s truly “mauvaise*!”

*”Bad” in French. It rhymes, really.

The cod tongues and cheeks and french fries
Were starting to go to my thighs
Instead of a hike
We rode the Big Bike
Where thirty friends get exercise

There once was a fellow named Barry
Who sailed on the Newfoundland ferry
With me and my Dad –
What a fine trip we had –
And those cod tongues were extraordinary!

A woman who’s both wise and fair
And a beauty — is something quite rare
But the Honourable Betty
Who we met near the jetty
Is all the above, plus the Mayor

A number of fellows who flew
Crossed the Atlantic solo, it’s true
But Amelia, a girl
Thought she’d give it a whirl
She took off from here* in ‘32

*Harbour Grace, Newfoundland

This spot was the site of a Bookcrossing release.

There once was a quite lucky sod,
Who discovered a thing that was odd:
A ring made of gold,
Eighteenth century old,
In the belly of a Newfoundland cod.

The folks in their cars here are keeping
Themselves warm while listening and peeping
At their musical friends
Who know, when each song ends
Their applause will be honking and beeping!

After getting our musical fill
In North Sydney, we had time to kill
The suggestion of Mary
Was the old cemetary
Where the red candles burned on the hill

A crazy adventurous pair
Well known for their super-long hair
Decided it couth
To retire in their youth
Along with their fuzzy white bear

On top of our luggage that’s stacked
Sits the bear, who’s important, in fact
He can calm any fears
And hug away tears
He’s renowned for his wisdom and tact

So three cheers for the great Frank Lloyd Bear
Who has awesome compassion to share
If you hug him, you’ll find
He is gentle and kind
These are traits, that in humans, are rare

The laundry’s a surprising place
For meeting a friendly new face
Thought Kris, “They’re not losers,
Their notebook says, ‘Cruisers’!”
Of his Cuban rum, now, not a trace!

To Pauline and Keith: Thanks alot!
For cooking the stew in our pot
Our stove was kaput
No heat, only soot
But yours produced plenty of “Hot!”

Oh no! What’s this sign that I see?
The paint is as wet as can be
So boys, and girls, too
Must use the men’s loo
This is no time to be a lady!

New Hampshire’s a state in disgrace
Too proud of that rocky man’s face
But gravity came
And much to their shame,
The tourists now spurn the ol’ place

At the warm friendly Moose River Campground
There was plenty of roast pig to go ’round
And boys in grass skirts
And Hawaiian shirts
Did Limbo to Bud’s Karaoke sound

My Barry’s the bravest of guys
He bends backward, and he really tries
But limbo’s a sport
for those really short
His effort, though, won him a prize!

There’s a fellow named Jonathan Kling
Who’s a whiz at the sport of ski jumping
But there’s not any snow
And he still needs to go
So from Astro-Turf green he’s been flying!

Unpaved roads are made up of grime
Which thunderstorms then turn to slime
And twisty and zany
Is that ol’ Allegheny
We crossed it no less than eight times!

Now we think Columbus is great
A fine place to have your first date
Meps ‘n’ Barry are pleased,
(And each Miller agrees)
It’s the best place to find your life’s mate!

Barry’s sister is thoughtful and wise
And deserves a big birthday surprise
The party will rock
(If she’ don’t die of shock
When the blindfold’s removed from her eyes!)

I’ll be resting my road-weary head
On a comfortable, big queen-sized bed
In the van we did buy
That is long, wide, and high
(And I’m glad it is blue, and not red!)

The house is not nearly as quiet
It’s harder to stay on my diet
Dad’s back from afar
And he’ll loan us his car
So if we’d just find a van, we could buy it!

The folks in Sebastian were nice
And Lynn didn’t have to ask twice
In a kettle was born
That sweet golden Korn
Which, when popped, is my secret vice

The fireworks flew into the sky
And exploded from up on high
But the lightning and thunder
We were sitting under
Were the stars of the third of July

Two sailors who really weren’t roughin’ it
Rented a car and were stuffin’ it
With all of their junk
From Cayenne’s forward bunk
Now they’re livin’ in Florida and lovin’ it!