Here several months have passed since my last posting, despite numerous opportunities to comment on politics, literature, the Lambeth 2008, and so on. One momentous event that has taken place is that my father, widowed in 2005, has this week married again. Today was the family gathering to meet his new wife. Everyone seemed to get on very well, although it wouldn't surprise me if Peggy were suffering from sensory overload, meeting pretty much the whole family at once and in full volume. Pictures will probably follow at some point.
However, the inspiration to finally post again was prompted by something that happened last night, as I was making potato salad for the Meet Peggy Party. I saw something in the cabinet behind the two Rubbermaid spice turntables. It was the dessicated carcass of a palmetto bug, one of the big roaches that love to come inside when it is too hot or too cold outside. After its disposal, William said something offhand about "Perhaps you should contemplate its demise among the spices, and write a little something about it." This morning while the coffee was brewing I thought it out, and dashed off the following disgusting item, now presented for the world 's enjoyment or aversion:
Reflections on the Death of a Palmetto Bug Found Expired in the Spice Cabinet
"His face appeared almost human/Lying there behind the cumin." –A.M.W.
Few creatures e'er inspire
More fear and loathing dire
Than the great American Roach.
The hateful insect may encroach
Even among the spices rare;
But, trapped by an evil chance
On its back, legs in the air,
Fades at last its horrid dance
Amid the condiments and spices,
All its scurrying vices,
Until at last, a gruesome shell
Its insect soul departs to hell.
