A trip acoss the border into Scotland we had planned,
We dreamed, anticipating, for the day was close at hand,
I wrote about it at the time, excitement unabashed…
Until disaster chose to strike and all our plans were dashed.
With one exploding coffee pot that melted cloth and skin,
Once bandaged like a mummy, disappointment settled in.
The trip was off, we couldn’t go, with me half burned alive…
And, till I was unmummified, I really couldn’t drive.
Now, Scotland once again is calling to the northward road;
I’m being so damned careful in and out of my abode
That you would be forgiven if you thought I was neurotic…
The trouble is I didn’t count on this antibiotic…
I flit from shade to shadow as the sun, I’m told, will burn,
How badly, I decided, I was not prepared to learn.
I wear long sleeves and cover up and plaster on the lotion
And when I have to go outside, I keep myself in motion.
But what with ponds and awkward sons requiring transportation
And sunny days with temperatures exceeding expectation,
And windscreens that will magnify the rays on hands and head…
Regardless of precautions, I am now a beetroot red.
My fingers have gone scarlet where I hold the steering wheel,
They were mostly protected by the sunblock, so they’ll heal.
I’ll pass the crimson cheekbones off as just a healthy glow,
The nose would rival Rudolph’s, though, and that’s a nasty blow.
I really couldn’t help it…I have done my best to hide,
But duty called and so we had to go out for a ride,
I pushed the wheelchair through the sun, tried not to stay out long,
“Your toes look like chorizo,” said my son. He wasn’t wrong.
It had been warm this morning and so when I had to choose,
I’d opted for my sandals, being cooler than my shoes,
And though I spread the sunblock on my hands and face and nose…
I never even thought about applying it to toes!
Now the offending articles protruding from my feet
Too well resemble sausages, far too well-done to eat,
The blistered skin refuses shoes and may reject the floor,
My mismanaged appendages are really awful sore.
The die is cast; I knew the score you’ll say, it serves me right…
And I will have to hide by day and just go out at night.
So take a tip from me next time the summer sun you greet…
Apply the sunblock lavishly… and don’t forget your feet!
Ha funny…well the poem not the burning or coffee pot or trip ruination…😂
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That was a while back, Michael… and really not funny at the time. The toes are new 😉
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Oh! Sue this is such a clever poem. But I am so sorry to hear about your poor feet. Lots of after sun should help. I do hope you are better very soon. I think you will have to have a day light strike until you finish the tablets. Get well !! 💜💜💜
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Apparently, the darned things stay in your system a while after finishing them too. And I am already a ‘scarlet woman’ thanks to the pond 😉 xx
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I know they do, it’s such a bind really .. typically the weather right now is way too good for you …cover up 💜💜
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Doing my best… ❤
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I am sure you are 💜
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❤
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Isn’t it about time that they create medication that doesn’t do more harm than good?
It might be after the horse has bolted, so to speak, but what you needed was a very big hat!
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It would have to have been a big one to protect my toes 😉
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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Thanks for sharing, Jaye x
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Felt I shouldn’t ‘Like’ this as it does spund very painful – but it’s such a funny poem. Hope the sausage toes feel better soon.
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😀
Thanks, Mary. It fels more like severe scalds that sun damage… and is not easy to sleep with!
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Oh poor you! How you can create such a superb, lyrical creation from such a hideous time I’ll never know. You’re amazing. I really do feel for you, and very much hope you can get the feet and other burnt appendages under control soon. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for some cooler, cloudier weather to come. In the meantime, I’m thinking of you and sending you all my good wishes. 🙂
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Thanks, Alli…I could do with a week of dull days 😉
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Fingers crossed. To be honest, so could I. 🙂
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Next week, with a bit of luck 😉
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Oh good. I hadn’t seen the forecast. And it’s half term, so we’ll be out and about a bit more. 🙂
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That means the roads will be quieter too 🙂
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That’ll be a relief. I can’t stand heavy traffic, and it seems to be building more and more these days. I think we should all go back to horse and cart, or even Shanks’s pony! It’d take longer to get anywhere, but you’d be less stressed when you got there! We all need to slow down. 🙂
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I am very much in agreement with you…though I would miss the places I do need a car to get to in the time I have available 😉 And that is half the problem…
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That’s the problem, I think. We’re all time poor. Still, when I live in Northumberland I’ll probably be happy never to leave it again, except to go to York, and even Bede managed that, travelling from Jarrow. So I guess it can be done – if we only had the time… 🙂
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Odd how deep the north calls 😉
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It does indeed. It’s been calling me for as long as I can remember. 🙂
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And calling me home too 🙂
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Really? That’s nice. Maybe we’ll both end up in the north… 🙂
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I do hope so… 🙂
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😀
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glad you were able to smile at it all, and push on –
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Not much choice really 🙂
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Sue, your poor toes. That medication sounds downright dangerous unless you’re mummified (again). A clever poem, but I couldn’t help wincing. Ouch!
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I’m wncing with every step, Diana. Serves me right for thinking they were overestimating the possible side-effects 😉
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That’s what I’d do too. Live and learn.
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Yep. I also learned to take ‘cold’ showers instead of hot ones till this clears 😉
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Oh no. Sue… ???
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Yep 😦
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Oh my. I hope your toes will be better soon. A cute poem. XO
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Thanks, Darlene…so do I 😉
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That’s funny
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Not on my feet 😉
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😊😊
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I remember going to Durban once, Sue, it is very hot there in the summer. My dad sat on the beach in shorts for 20 minutes and he burned his legs so badly he couldn’t walk. The sun is very strong and dangerous. I never to in it at all.
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It really hasn’t been that hot here, but these pills don’t seem to care.
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The first time I went to Arizona, I bought — for the first time EVER since we were going in the hottest month of the year (plane fares are cheap in August) — very fine Indian long-sleeved shirts. They weigh nothing, look nice, and protect you from the sun. NOW all you need is a hat with a nice, wide brim! Have you considered cotton gloves while you drive? You can take them off when you get where you are going and just stuff them in your pockets. As a serious burner, I have learned to cope. I’ve been torched driving in Garry’s convertible — I told him he was going to get a car with a roof or I was going to cut off my hair which in those years was a real threat (the wind from the convertible turned it to eight million tiny pixie knots). I was seared while WEARING teeshirt in the water in Haiti. And burned while walking across a parking lot in Israel. People used to comment that I really HAD picked the wrong country.
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I tend to wear sleeves too…and love Indian cotton. I have been wearing gloves, sleeves and socks…and sweltering… and I d have a big floppy hat. Not that it goes with the working clothes 😉
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Well … that sucks! 😦
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Pretty much.
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Sue, you really do suffer for your art! Hope you have lots of Aloe vera to slather on your poor feet.
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I just restocked 🙂
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Oh, no, Sue, I hope it isn’t too sore on your toeses. xxx
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Getting better, thankfully…but still can’t get shoes on 😉
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oh no, it must drive you mad. Healing virtual hug sent. xxx
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Thaks, Adele. Sandals are working 😉 xx
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The upside is that you got your vitamin D dose! Sorry about the feet – I’ve done that too, which is why I wear shoes and not sandals if I am going to be out on a really sunny day. I’m already tan from swimming outside – but try to do it later in the afternoon when there’s shade on the water.
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True, but I think I’d rather have all my skin in place 😉
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
UPROARIOUSLY FUNNY—AT LEAST TO ME! ❤
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