Fun from My Father

So I dropped the ball on the blog-a-month-on-Fun idea.

 

I found out in July that I had to move and was all about that until I found a sweet place in a town (see Contact page) that has made my soul sing from my first visit here, nigh onto 20 years ago.  

 

Let’s keep going with that old-man language….

 

It’s been three years since my father died. I spoke his name out at a service last night, with others who have lost people at this time of year. This morning, making my tea, I scooped a bit of local honey out of a jar, and this piece of fun from my childhood came swooping back to me.

 

I can feel and picture myself – four years old, messy hair, fork in hand at the dinner table, head dropped back in joy as I crack up at the unsaid foolishness, and feeling my dad as a deliciously sharp humorist. (He had an irreverent joy inside him that often did not have its say.) Every time my father shared this little rhyme, I would laugh like mad and demand an encore.

 

So in honor of my father, and fathers everywhere…
In honor of my new digs, the memories arising as I unpack,
In honor of the Days of Awe,
In honor of Fun, I leave you with:

 

I eat my peas with honey

I’ve done it all my life

It makes the peas taste funny

But they don’t roll off my knife.

 

Laughing right now, Dad.

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