Lying down on the sand to get tanned
Is a pastime I NEVER have planned.
And my swim skills are grim,
Way too hard on my vim.
But long walks on non-beach-land are grand.
Happy National Beach Day! (Aug. 30)
Posts Tagged ‘Leisure Time Humor’
Beach Day (Limerick)
Tuesday, August 30th, 2016Escapist Limerick
Thursday, September 20th, 2012Claudia over at DVersePoets asks us to write a poem about our quiet moments:
Escapist Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
When I need to escape and relax,
I read thrillers — fictitious attacks
On a gal or a fellow
I’ll root for while mellow—
Avoiding true life’s ugly facts.
Camp-Free Limerick
Wednesday, June 6th, 2012Poetic Asides prompts us to write poems about camping. As you can see, I’m not exactly a roughing-it kind of gal:
Camp-Free Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
I’m reluctant to rough it outside.
I need comforts a house can provide.
I’m too timid to camp,
But at home I’m a champ
Where mosquitoes can’t feast on my hide.
Update: August 20 is World Mosquito Day.
A Source Of Annoyance (Limerick Movie Review)
Friday, May 13th, 2011The year is young. But hubby Mark and I already have a candidate for the year’s worst movie-going experience: Source Code. I found it so annoying and boring, that I walked out after a half-hour or so. Mark didn’t like it much either, but opted to stay, hoping for a boffo ending.
So I spent the next ninety minutes wandering around a shopping center, killing time while Mark watched the movie … or so I thought. As I later learned, the film broke twenty or thirty minutes before the movie’s ending, and they never got it going again. So much for that boffo pay-off!
A Source Of Annoyance
By Madeleine Begun Kane
The last movie we saw, was a snooze.
I left early in lieu of loud boos.
Its title was Source Code
It struck our remorse code —
Left us singing the cash-wasted blues.
(Prompted by movie poetry)
Tasty Books
Thursday, October 7th, 2010Tasty Books (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Please don’t tell me you’re “moved” by a book,
Cuz I surely won’t give it a look.
I love thrillers and wit,
But abstain from chick lit
And spurn texts that explain how to cook.
****
September 6 is “National Read A Book Day.”
Jump, Jive, and Sweat
Monday, August 28th, 2006“You’re gonna swing dance in this weather? Are you insane?”
I’ve been asked that a lot lately, which isn’t surprising when you consider this summer’s humidity and heat wave. New York City’s weather has been so unbearable, that felons have switched from car theft to stealing AC’s. … (Jump, Jive, and Sweat is continued here.)
UPDATE: Happy International Dance Day! (April 29th)
Sparring Over Spare Time
Friday, August 25th, 2006Do you and your spouse argue about how to spend your spare time? Togetherness can be tough to achieve when a couple’s interests just don’t jibe. But this contract may be just the cure for your spare time blues.
AGREEMENT entered into on _____, 20__ between opera-buff Wife and sports-fan Husband.
WHEREAS, Husband has been badgering Wife to attend a ball game for as long as they’ve been married, and he has never managed to reach first base;
WHEREAS, Wife has been pressuring Husband to go to the opera for years, and Husband is running out of excuses; and
WHEREAS, Husband and Wife know that if they don’t resolve this soon, each will be attending all functions solo.
NOW, THEREFORE, the parties hereby agree to the following spare time terms:
1. Wife will attend one ball-type game, the selection of which shall be in Husband’s sole discretion, and Husband will attend one opera performance, the selection of which shall be in Wife’s sole discretion. In exercising such discretion, both spouses will keep in mind that divorce lawyers are really expensive … (Sparring Over Spare Time is continued here.)
Tubing Blues
Sunday, August 20th, 2006Tubing — the masochistic act of hurtling down a fall-fraught river while clinging to an inner tube. Somehow my husband Mark talked me, a devout wimp, into trying it.
Why did I go along for the rocky river ride? Perhaps I was dazed by the beauty of the Catskill Mountains’ Esopus River. Perhaps the brave (or foolish) teens who plunged heedlessly into the Esopus shamed me into it. Or maybe I was feeling guilty for being a perennial naysayer. Whatever the reason, one summer day I broke my first rule of survival: If they advise helmets, avoid it.
Before risking the river we signed a paper saying our survivors couldn’t sue. Then Mark paced while I interrogated the clerk about safety. Jagged rock protection was high on her (and my) list. Sneakers for the feet, a helmeted head, and plywood in the tube to protect the tush.
After a short, steep bus ride up river, the driver said “Just throw your tubes into the river and get in.” He pointed towards what looked suspiciously like waterfalls.
Foolish me, I’d assumed there’d be an attendant to provide advice, guidance, and moral support. And to hold the damn tube in place long enough for me to lower myself onto it and grab its pathetic excuse for handles. At the very least, they could have posted a sign saying, “Start your death ride here.” … (Tubing Blues is continued here.)
