Friday, June 10, 2011


I am in the middle of a huge two week curriculum writing project. To make a little extra money. So my boys can have new football cleats. And have their helmets reconditioned so their brains don't rattle around any more than absolutely necessary when they encounter 3oo pound lineman. It's worth $59 a kid to save their brains, right? The extra money will also help with football camps so they can get scholarships so I won't have to pay for all of college, in the event that someone decides they want to go. And maybe we can even eat during football season.

So yesterday, between writing lessons, and after I took the football helmets to the shop ($118) I had the air conditioning guy out. For a yearly preventive maintenance call. I pay an annual fee. So the visit was supposed to be free. And it cost me $340. For a new capacitator. And then I had an electrician out. Because I thought something was wrong with the electricity in the kitchen because the microwave breaker flips off every time you try to use the microwave. It only cost $210 to find out nothing is wrong with the electricity. Something was wrong with my microwave. Which is only ten months old. And so I had to buy a new microwave. Because my teenagers are absolutely sure that life cannot go on without frozen burritos and pizza rolls at midnight. And the microwave doesn't quite fit and I need to figure out a way to raise it up so the door will open when the front is on the cupboard. And then my printer, which I really need for my writing project, died last night. And it cost $112 to replace it.

I need to marry or at least date a handyman. Or take a class. So I can fix stuff. And so for today's poem, I bring you "The Hammer." This is actually the end of the poem.

The Hammer
Carl Sandburg

…Day by day
And year by year
The idols fall
And the idols rise.

I worship the hammer.

Read the rest of the poem here.

Poetry Friday is at Picture Book of the Day.


Julie said...

So true! Hollywood might give us the good-looking guys, but in real life they're nowhere near as exciting as someone who knows how to handle himself in a woodshop or autoshop class (or - for me - a guy who loves to pull weeds.) Neat little poem - small and tight, just right. Thanks.

Mary Lee said...

Oh, Carol! You always blow me away with your storytelling!! I'm sorry I was laughing at your expense!
(HA -- pun intended...)


Cathy said...

Not sure I can comment after laughing at Mary Lee's comment. I guess I'm going to take a more sympathetic approach since our basement just flooded (dollars undermined) and our mower needed repair ($'s a big mower). Just keep telling yourself, it has to get better. That's what I'm doing.