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goose
goose

WHAT?!?!?!!?!?!?!

matt
matt

he means camping goose… hopefully

FierceBaby
FierceBaby

Camping, driving, flying in little planes, doing good deeds. Whatever. Get home. Get back to the blog. Days are much too long without at some point having a clown face or a picture of the night sky and hanging plants make a bright splash. No depressing poetry, however. Please.

wishing for dry weather
wishing for dry weather

And apparently they went searching for said wizard sans tent. Perhaps they were hoping for a hotel room in the Emerald City…

rakkity
rakkity

Sans tent? ha-ha. That should make an interesting story for the blog when they return. (Assuming they’re not too embarrassed to tell the tale.)

michael
michael

Oh, but what poetry we did read. None of it, however, depressing. More head-scratching, what-did-he-mean-by-that kinda stuff.

adam
adam

We even made up some “poetry” of our own:

We were over our weight for the plane
You could “see” curses form in Jim’s brain
So we put back some things
To give a break to his wings
And yet leaving the map was insane …

Or this:

Second helpings declined with remorse –
Not one forkful more could we force
Yet after but a short while
Cookie asks with a smile,
“Some dessert?” and you blurt, “But of course!”

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