My broken toe limerick got some funny responses. One friend, who will remain nameless, said he once dropped his underwear, tried to kick them to the laundry hamper, hit the wall, and broke a toe. He had a hard time explaining why he was wearing steel-toed boots to his office job.

Here’s another funny response, in verse, from Elinor Narcross:

I was going to lunch
And was driving a bunch.
My foot went kerplunk
Caught myself on the trunk.
Got a break in my foot
Requiring a boot.
In the arm, bicep tear
All in all, worse for wear.

In November it occurred
Pre-holidays; my word!
Healing has taken place
And snow has covered space.
Been inside looking out
Sunshine now makes me shout.
If Spring does really arrive,
I’ll want to drive and drive and drive.

(given the line about the trunk, maybe she should switch to a hatchback?)

Hubby needs something, quick, from below.
So I dash down the ladder, not slow,
Then I trip on a door
That he left on the floor,
“Here’s your tool, but I’ve broken my toe!”

This is weird, but it’s happened twice! Out of the blue, someone sends me a limerick about a Julie when I need one for my sister of the same name. This one comes from reader IronMan Mike Curtis, and although it’s not a perfect fit (my sister is NOT middle-aged), it is perfectly timed for my sister’s birthday.

Thanks, Mike! But next time, maybe we could call her “a lovely young woman,” instead? Then, as you can see from the photo, it would fit my Julie, too.

Julie, Schmulie

A middle aged woman named Julie
Feared her next birthday unduly
As the clock struck midnight,
She blanched with sheer fright
As if she’d been possessed by a ghoulie

(Limerick (c) 2009 M. Curtis)

If you think that equality’s great,
And you wish for a world free from hate,
And you have curly hair,
And your first name is Claire,
Here’s your present! It’s just one day late.

Claire’s birthday was the day before the inauguration of Barack Obama. The photo above is Obama’s official presidential portrait, which we’ll be seeing in federal buildings while he is in office. It’s the first presidential portrait taken with a digital camera.

I hadn’t gotten any guest submissions in a while, when this appeared in my in-box and gave me a chuckle. It comes from R. Dennis Green, “a limerick-starved fan from Bethesda, MD who shares a birth year (1951) with the comic strip, Dennis the Menace.”

I looked for a birthday limerick
Your web site proved to be perferick
My friend needed laughter
To fight the disaster…
Of aging. Your verse did the trick!

(photos are at the bottom…)

There once was a doggie named Missy,
She wears glasses, which make her look prissy.
She has more clothes than me,
Over seventy-three
Different outfits! A clothes-horse — or is she?

At a street fair in Fort Pierce, Florida, I photographed a man in a motorized wheelchair with a frilly little dog wearing a dress and sunglasses. Two months later, I ran into them again. “Hi!” I said. “I took your picture last month.” The man in the wheelchair smiled, then, trying to recall the event, asked me, “What was she wearing?”

Missy is a therapy dog, trained by Frank. She has almost 80 different outfits with matching glasses, and she spends her time visiting nursing homes and hospitals. A friend tells me the two are local celebrities. “They’re in all the parades,” she said.

All the houses are decked out in light,
Spreading warm, festive cheer through the night,
But our Flutterby strand,
Is strung up just as planned,
On the inside — so selfish, but bright!

Yesterday, we installed 32 feet of 12V “warm white” LED rope light in Flutterby as our primary cabin lighting. It’s beautiful, efficient, and feels like Christmas! (photos to come when the boat is a little less messy…)

It was crowded, and parking was tight,
When we drove into Beaufort last night,
There were Santas and sleighs,
And a lighthouse with rays,
And the Gilligan crew was a sight.

But our friends from Quebec on the pier,
Say they’re lacking in holiday cheer.
“The parade is quite nice,
“But we’ve seen it now, thrice,
“And we’d like to be elsewhere, not here.”

When I wrote this, I thought it was cute, the fact that our friends from Giva will be out cruising this time next year. However, Val didn’t think the joke was funny, and he asked me to include his comments:

I don’t think it’s funny
Val

I have set my fine shop-vac to “suck,”
But the dust flies around me, amok!
Now I’ve figured it out,
The solution, no doubt,
Is a “blow job” to get it unstuck.

I hate these steep learning curves! I cleaned the boat for four days, but the dust just reappeared. Finally, I attacked the crevices with the vacuum cleaner hose set to “blow” instead of “suck.” What a mess — this got the fiberglass dust out into the air (I was wearing a respirator), but after it settled, I vacuumed it up.

Hey, the deck is done, let’s celebrate!
So we went and ate plate after plate,
At the Golden Corral,
But it sapped my morale,
‘Cause this stomachache will not abate.

Friday seemed like a good time to try the G.C., which our boatyard friends are always talking about. We celebrated with Clark, of Undaunted, who had launched his boat that afternoon. But the acres of food were overwhelming. It reminded me of Two Scoops Moore, who sang: “I can’t stop goin’ back to the big buffet…probably have a heart attack, down at the big buffet.”

Cogito, ergonomic sum: I sit up, therefore I am…not going to a back doctor. (Before and after photos for this one can be found below, on the website.)

My Dad had a terrible slouch,
As he sat at his desk or the couch,
But we found a new chair,
And he sits upright there,
So he no longer whines and says, “Ouch.”

I was down by the water last week,
When I heard a marine mammal speak,
Yes, a dolphin came near,
And he spoke really clear,
But I just cannot translate his squeak.

This really happened to me! I think he was saying something about “Launch that boat and come play with us.” Or maybe, “Where’s the dog food?”

Now there once was a feller, McCain,
And he took matching funds to campaign.
Now Barack has the dough
For his own TV show,
Which makes baseball fans loudly complain.

Speaking of complaining, Barry rolled his eyes and said no more political entries in our Adventures blog. But he just can’t stop me from limerickin’!

Such a smooth car to drive into town,
But I shriek when I blithely glance down.
“Oh my God, did I drive
“At one hundred and five?”
“That’s kilometres,” he says, with a frown.

We’re borrowing our friends’ Camry for a couple of weeks. I had a heart-stopping moment when I was driving down the highway and I looked down to check my speed, forgetting that it’s a Canadian car. Barry, who had already noticed the Canadian Tire money in the ashtray, had to remind me.

One may purchase three items, no more,
After nine at the Food Lion store.
So our cart, piled with food,
Made the checker quite rude
And she scowled ’til we rolled out the door.

We decided to shop for a basket full of groceries after dinner in town, but what a mistake! We were the only people buying more than three items, and the checkout clerk treated us like pariahs. I guess she wants us to start shopping at Piggly Wiggly?

There once was a fellow named Tim,
Who decided to stop on a whim,
And he started our van,
With some stuff from a can,
So we’re now on our way, thanks to him.

Tim refused payment for his roadside assistance, so we sent him along with one of the inflatable space aliens, Lou Wheeze, for his kids. Ros Well and A. Leeann and Gert Rude don’t seem to be suffering separation anxiety yet.

We had thought that we had a fine plan,
To go West in our big Burning van,
But we now comprehend,
Upon reaching the end,
That the reason was family, not Man.

When we scheduled our Burning Man trip, we thought we’d see a few family members along the way. Instead, we saw almost all of them! When we reached our journey’s apogee, we counted the family members we’d rendezvoused with:
All three parents, all three sisters, all three nephews, our one-and-only niece, two brothers, two aunts, and one brother-in-law. Plus one huge, welcoming family at Burning Man. We love you all!

Who would have thought?
Cabela’s in Nebraska.
Two Burning Vans meet.

This is a rare haiku from Barry (My second poem and I still haven’t written a limerick)!

We just passed a small town: Osino
On 80, which goes straight through Reno.
Does it seem strange to you
That Nevada has two
Of these places, that rhyme with casino?

So Parker says he wants a boat,
A place in the sunshine, afloat.
But Roxana’s not sure,
Whether sailing’s for her,
And hers is the critical vote.

I was on the way to the shower when I met a couple from Atlanta who were looking at boats on their 25th wedding anniversary. We hit it off and ended up chatting for quite a while, despite the fact that I was really, really, really grubby. I tried to stay downwind of them as we talked. I was that grubby.

Instead of singing in the shower, I write limericks. These five lines popped into my head during the shower that followed.

2011 Update:
I’ve really enjoyed exchanging emails with Roxana since that chance meeting. Finally, in January of 2011, almost 2-1/2 years after this limerick, she wrote that they had bought a boat:

“…Well, Parker (we, I guess) did it. A 2001 Island Packet 420 in Tortola. Yep. You read that right. I finally gave in.”

Roxana gave me the details of the great deal they got on the boat, but it was this paragraph that really made me smile:

“Seriously, it wasn’t the boat that changed my mind. When we went down for the sea trial we met one person after another, and every one of them was just wonderful. All were so warm and friendly, and very eager to help with anything. It was while I was sitting in a little outdoor restaurant waiting for Parker that I suddenly realized that, for me, it wasn’t really about the sailing or the boat. It was about the people! And so far, they have all exceeded my expectations!”

I was thinking today, “Gee, we’re hosed,”
“It is Saturday, Bock’s shop is closed.”
When up came a roar,
From o’er near the store,
And out the ol’ Travelift nosed.

There were Randy and Kenny and Dale,
But the best part to tell of this tale,
Is how Nancy, Ms. Bock,
Had a tube of Life-Caulk,
That we found on the store shelf, for sale.

An advantage to having internet on the boat is that I can now pen limericks about events right when they happen. A disadvantage is that I can now pen these limericks about events that are critically exciting to us and distressingly boring to you, my gentle reader.

(Barry points out another disadvantage — that I can be wasting time writing these limericks instead of installing the hatch.)

The lady, at age something-nine,
Is feeling quite youthful and fine,
But next year, the blow
Will come. Big uh-oh!
And then she’ll have reason to whine.

Happy Birthday to Julie and Sharon…39 and holding, both of you!

There once was a fellow named Dan,
Who lived on a boat on jackstands.
“She leaks like a sieve,
But it’s no way to live,
I would much rather float, if I can.”

Our neighbor, Dan, has been launched twice and subsequently pulled out. Somehow, he keeps a cheerful attitude, despite the delays. His blog is at www.danzplan.com.

“Like a sieve” is my poetic license; his boat is really nice. But if it worked perfectly, we wouldn’t have met him in the boatyard!

There once was a fellow named Larry,
Who, when asked if he’s happy, says, “Very!”
After many a year,
His old high school dear,
Has accepted his offer to marry.

==
Larry is one of my favorite guys here at Bock Marine, and he’s just returned from his honeymoon. Congratulations to the new couple!

I have offered the white bunny suit,
A bite of some nice, tasty fruit,
But in order to grind,
His whole mouth is behind,
Plexiglass, so the question is moot.

===
Says Barry, “I love my 3M 6800 respirator!”