Chipperdini
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Feb 28, 2001
Or, in my case, its my ice cooler of fresh-picked black raspberries (with some goldens tossed in just because).
Who can take a bramble
Sprinkle it with dew
The Berry-Man can!
It has been more than a decade since Ive had the chance to enjoy the fairest food of them all, and Im beginning to salivate over the fact that -- barring any unforeseen tragedies or patience-trying delays -- Im going to be in berry-heaven in about 15 hours.
Strike that. But dont reverse it; add to it. Make that about 15 hours plus another 650 miles worth of driving hours.
Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry twinkle in my eye
Cause Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry sun up in the sky
For the record, sometimes I worry just a wee bit about DHs safety when he drives long distances without me. My concern increases or decreases based upon how non-exhausted he is, as well as how hes feeling emotionally.
This particular trip Ive been worried almost as much as when DH drove from Ohio, to Georgia, to Maryland and back to Ohio a few days before our wedding nearly 18 years ago. This time it's just a somewhat oft-traveled drive to Ohio from Georgia and back again (with a week to not take the time to rest in between the leaving and the returning), BUT -- this trip also just so happens to be during black raspberry season!!!!! (Insert DIS-crashing amount of happy, hyper, heart-throbbing smiley-thingies.) So it was extra-important that DH arrive in Ohio in one functioning piece, and it is even more extra-important that he arrives back in Georgia in at least enough functioning pieces to transfer the delicious "berried treasure" to its rightful recipient, i.e. me.
Now dont get me wrong: I do miss my husband, and I very much look forward to when he is home again. I would be truly heartbroken if something happened to him such that his next bed is a just-big-enough-for-one pine box. After all, hes bearing berri-- er, that is to say hes forbearing, and berry uh, I mean very, um, funny, and sweet and delicious and black -- no, DH is white -- and juicy and so mouthwatering you could just sink your teeth into... and, well, whats not to eat, right? No, love! I meant to say whats not to LOVE, right?
Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry chance to eat away
Of course it goes without saying that if DH makes it home all right but those precious black pearls dont, he is a dead man. I am no longer a pacifist. Hopefully the raspberries didnt make it would fall under Georgias he needed killin defense. If not, well, yall can probably guess what my last meal will be.
Mrs. [McLeach], did you hear me? Its your husbands life or your case of [black raspberries].
(silence/pause)
How long will they give me to think it over?
And with a berry ticket
Its a Happy Day!
Who can take a bramble
Sprinkle it with dew
The Berry-Man can!
It has been more than a decade since Ive had the chance to enjoy the fairest food of them all, and Im beginning to salivate over the fact that -- barring any unforeseen tragedies or patience-trying delays -- Im going to be in berry-heaven in about 15 hours.
Strike that. But dont reverse it; add to it. Make that about 15 hours plus another 650 miles worth of driving hours.
Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry twinkle in my eye
Cause Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry sun up in the sky
For the record, sometimes I worry just a wee bit about DHs safety when he drives long distances without me. My concern increases or decreases based upon how non-exhausted he is, as well as how hes feeling emotionally.
This particular trip Ive been worried almost as much as when DH drove from Ohio, to Georgia, to Maryland and back to Ohio a few days before our wedding nearly 18 years ago. This time it's just a somewhat oft-traveled drive to Ohio from Georgia and back again (with a week to not take the time to rest in between the leaving and the returning), BUT -- this trip also just so happens to be during black raspberry season!!!!! (Insert DIS-crashing amount of happy, hyper, heart-throbbing smiley-thingies.) So it was extra-important that DH arrive in Ohio in one functioning piece, and it is even more extra-important that he arrives back in Georgia in at least enough functioning pieces to transfer the delicious "berried treasure" to its rightful recipient, i.e. me.
Now dont get me wrong: I do miss my husband, and I very much look forward to when he is home again. I would be truly heartbroken if something happened to him such that his next bed is a just-big-enough-for-one pine box. After all, hes bearing berri-- er, that is to say hes forbearing, and berry uh, I mean very, um, funny, and sweet and delicious and black -- no, DH is white -- and juicy and so mouthwatering you could just sink your teeth into... and, well, whats not to eat, right? No, love! I meant to say whats not to LOVE, right?
Ive got a berry ticket
Ive got a berry chance to eat away
Of course it goes without saying that if DH makes it home all right but those precious black pearls dont, he is a dead man. I am no longer a pacifist. Hopefully the raspberries didnt make it would fall under Georgias he needed killin defense. If not, well, yall can probably guess what my last meal will be.
Mrs. [McLeach], did you hear me? Its your husbands life or your case of [black raspberries].
(silence/pause)
How long will they give me to think it over?
And with a berry ticket
Its a Happy Day!