Charlie’s been in overdrive with his poetry, and I’m grateful for that. I’m still getting used to being back at work with my eye not being 100%. I find I’m a little more tired than usual. I think it’s because my good eye is having to work overtime because the vision in my other eye is pretty blurry and a little distorted. Still, it’s good to be easing into life and finding my new normal. I’m appreciating every minute of it, especially coming home to our little love bug, Cora, putting my feet up and kicking back with the big guy.
Anyhoo, here’s Charlie’s latest. They say “move it or lose it.” I guess that’s true not just of your body, but of mechanical things, too.
Whiskers In the Carburetor
Junior’s truck, let’s be clear,
He uses maybe once a year
For hauling big stuff to the dump
A busted couch, a rotten stump
But like a bear, half-hibernated,
His truck, it woke up irritated
He fiddled some beneath the hood
But still, it didn’t run so good
It jerked and sputtered, almost stopped,
He barely made it to the shop
Where Tiger looked it over good
And Junior took off, like he should,
To buy them both a cup of joe
And doughnuts in a box to go
Upon returning, Junior found
Tiger still was poking ’round
Tiger asked, only fitting,
“How long has this thing been sitting?”
“‘Bout a year,” my friend replied
Tiger goes, “Let’s look inside
“This carburetor, what the hell,
It might just have a tale to tell.
Ah! I found the perpetrator:
Whiskers in the carburetor!
“Mice, he says, “just like I thought.
All snug in there ’til one got caught.
Your engine, it won’t get to coughin’
If you start it up more often.”
All you rodents need your rest
But think before you build your nest
An engine’s cozy as can be
Until the driver turns the key!
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Whiskers In the Carburetor