Category Archives: A Bit On The Funny Side

    Today’s selection from The Writer’s Almanac by Garrison Keillor: Mr. Keillor must be in a lighthearted mood this week. Poem: "Manners" by Howard Nemerov from Trying Conclusions. © University of Chicago Press.   To Listen:  http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/ Manners   … Continue reading →

  Wood Carving, Sculpture and Relief Art  http://www.jonathanbearman.com/sculpture2.htm   I read Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac  every day. Today’s selection put a smile on my face. If there is hidden meaning, I’m not sure what it is, but I enjoyed … Continue reading →

"Dear me, how nice this rain is," said the Oak, "I hope at last we’re in for a good soak; My leaves were getting dusty, and my roots Felt like a tired man’s toes inside his boots!"

Good fortune is a giddy maid,      Fickle and restless as a fawn; She smooths your hair; and then the jade      Kisses you quickly, and is gone.   But Madam Sorrow scorns all this;      She shows no eagerness … Continue reading →

Some days, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. Am I up or down or down and out?    Some days, my get-up-and-go done got up and went. If I knowed where it goed, I’d go out and get it. … Continue reading →

I loathe, abhor, detest, despise, Abominate dired-apple pies. I like good bread, I like good meat, Or anything that’s fit to eat; But of all poor grub beneath the skies, The poorest is dried apple pies. Give me the toothache, … Continue reading →

Methuselah ate what he found on his plate, And never, as people do now, Did he note the amount of the calory count; He ate it because it was chow. He wasn’t disturbed as at dinner he sat, Devouring a … Continue reading →

The optimist fell ten stories.    At each window bar He shouted to his friends:    "All right so far."

When the shoe strings break On  both  your shoes And you’re in a hurry– That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar And you’ve lost the dime you had– Slipped through a hole in your pocket somewhere– … Continue reading →

Old Nick, who taught the village school, Wedded a maid of homespun habit; He was as stubborn as a mule, She was as playful as a rabbit. Poor Jane had scarce become a wife, Before her husband sought to make … Continue reading →