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May. 1st, 2005 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringI'm working on an article for the Bookcrossing site. I'm hoping that someone else will cover the convention itself, because I wanted to focus on some of the peripheral experiences. I'm still licking it into shape, but it's mostly in place in my Bookcrossing journal.
CoffeeBron started off a poetry competition. A funny poem on the theme of mistaken identity. I rejigged my Lionel Murphy anecdote:
Sunday Morning Coming Down and Letting Go
=========================================
After service this morning we lingered, we three,
The reverend Golightly, my dear wife and me.
The sun streamed in as we talked at the door;
The stained glass tinting the old wooden floor.
I relaxed for a moment, and then with a sigh
My breakfast beans slid quietly by.
I thought I’d escaped, and I would have had if
It hadn’t been *quite* so much of a whiff.
My wife stopped her chatter, sniffed and said “Pooh!”
Then gazed at me sternly. “Was that awful smell you?”
She gave me a Look and my heart gave a lurch,
What, admit before God that I’d farted in church?
“Me, dear? Of course not!” I said without thinking.
Holding my ground as they both stood there blinking.
A moment of hush and the reverend mused
“Oh it must have been me, then. Please do excuse!”
Pete, all his own work
CoffeeBron started off a poetry competition. A funny poem on the theme of mistaken identity. I rejigged my Lionel Murphy anecdote:
Sunday Morning Coming Down and Letting Go
=========================================
After service this morning we lingered, we three,
The reverend Golightly, my dear wife and me.
The sun streamed in as we talked at the door;
The stained glass tinting the old wooden floor.
I relaxed for a moment, and then with a sigh
My breakfast beans slid quietly by.
I thought I’d escaped, and I would have had if
It hadn’t been *quite* so much of a whiff.
My wife stopped her chatter, sniffed and said “Pooh!”
Then gazed at me sternly. “Was that awful smell you?”
She gave me a Look and my heart gave a lurch,
What, admit before God that I’d farted in church?
“Me, dear? Of course not!” I said without thinking.
Holding my ground as they both stood there blinking.
A moment of hush and the reverend mused
“Oh it must have been me, then. Please do excuse!”
Pete, all his own work
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Re: Pete ~
Date: 2005-05-01 05:41 am (UTC)Only about twenty hours of each day...
Pete, blushing furiously