b-b-b burping bluebonnets beer bathrooms blogging

B-b-b-b-b-blundering off the path today even before I read the creative writing prompt of "the need for wine or beer" .  When I downloaded this bluebonnet photo, the car radio of my driverless brain began playing, "I Got You Babe".  I got bluebonnets, babe, and somehow the blossom turned into Sonny, with the skinny plant to the right becoming the very young Cher. 

HIM: I got flowers in the spring



I got you to wear my ring


HER: And when I'm sad, you're a clown


And if I get scared, you're always around

And if you get scared easily, here is a photo of Sonny and Cher dolls, vintage 1976. This may or may not be the Cher with a knob on her back that makes her hair grow.

I was already in college, and oblivious to this pop culture moment, possibly thanks to wine or beer. It seems the twelve-inch Cher doll had thirty outfits designed by Bob Mackie, but Sonny had only six. Woe to the dude who had to wear this get-up every sixth day!

Because enquiring minds want to know about the 200+ back-ordered toilet seats, there is a link.  Because I had to find the post about the pale gold back-ordered toilet seats in Omaha, I got to playing around with the Cloud O' Labels at the bottom of this page.  Sometimes sorted by frequency instead of alphabetical order, I seem to have written about bathrooms in this blog thirty-five times in over two thousand posts.  An outbreak of burping at school finds I've written only eight posts about manners.  Maybe the rants are alternatively cataloged under "School lunch" (29 posts) or "Boy Scouts" (11). 
 
The children heard a reading of poems today that included several celebrations and odes to burping and bad manners.  My parents intoned this cautionary rhyme with fearsome eyebrows when my brother hit the boys-will-burp age:
 

To belch a belch
 and bear the shame,

or squelch a belch
 and bear the pain?

Table manners always won out over self-expression back then.  I used to envision a little bear with its paws over its mouth and struggling to squelch its belch.

Bear with me, and then we will fill the cup, and in the fire of spring, the winter garment of repentance fling.  Pertinent topics with post frequencies:

• wildflowers (3)
• Sixties music (38)
• mangled lyrics (60)
• poetry (31)
• blogging (65)
• bras (6)

Not so much flinging as extricating, I got my bra unhooked from the washing machine agitator.  Tonight, at no additional charge if you call operators standing by right now, you will receive two Sixties mangled Ginsu lyrics for the price of one.  Yes, I fought the bra, and the bra won. 


I was almost fifteen before I needed a bra, which might have been why my mom gave me a copy of The Rubayyat by Omar Khayyam that Christmas.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.



© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder