Fresh Out of the Oven this morning at The Bakery, I had her poem "The Wife's Mid-Life Crisis with Dreams of Sacrificing Feet" for breakfast instead of some other kind of pastry. Yesterday I had "The Wife's Mid-Life Crisis with Danger" instead of a donut.
Excellent way to lose weight! Wait! Unless I drink a lot of this Poet beer, actually an oatmeal stout.
And I appear to have plenty of it. In fact, it appears to be growing on trees around here.
This is my homemade bottle tree. (Formerly a burning bush. But it died.) I was inspired to make it, with various beer bottles, including Wingwalker pale ale and Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy, after seeing pix of other, more beautiful, less alcoholic bottle trees online. (And as a monument to the burning bush.)
Note to self: Do not drink Poet stout for breakfast* or you will become a stout poet. And for other reasons.
Note to all: Do read (and/or listen to!) Carol Berg's mid-life crisis poems at The Bakery, and it looks like a yummy place to visit frequently! Also, try not to have a mid-life crisis, but, if you do, handling it with poetry is probably better than handling it with beer.
Have I mentioned that it is Fat Tuesday in the blog? And also, clearly, a Poetry Someday. And, as usual, a Random Coinciday!
*even though it is made out of oatmeal