Mom’s Cloud tags – BrainDebris, I do remember

Wuw Who!! More Cloud Tags. 

Cloud tags, in our little Blogging circle, have become the new Muse. Can’t think what to write today? Computer ate your post? Thoroughly bummed out by having a fake Viagra Site swipe your Blog without crediting you?  Look at your cloud tags. They are a wealth of inspiration. And, downright funny sometimes.

I manage my mom’s rhyming poetry blog http://padairvanvleck.wordpress.com, so had to add Cloud Tags to her page. She hasn’t complained yet, about the cloud tages,  but it isn’t really something a Compulsive Obsessive would enjoy. I mean, all those different sizes of fonts and just random looking. But, they are so funny.

I mean, where else are you going to find “baby-Book-booze-cat-cherub” linked together in one line? It has been pointed out to me that my mind can go in very strange directions, but I look at this non-sentence and picture someone sitting, filling out a baby book and needing booze because they aren’t being as neat as they should be. Their cat sits on their book and the little cherub sleeps nearby.  Maybe it’s a picture to paint. Have to think about that.

I do know that my daughter’s baby books never got done, by me anyway.  I think Gram finished them when the girls were well grown. My problem was that I just knew I couldn’t be neat enough. I had a dozen little slips of paper detailing when they did what and funny things they said and photos and memorabilia. It’s just that the blank pages of the baby books terrified me. What if I made a mistake? Would the child be scarred for life? Would my mother hate me for sloppiness? At this point in my life, I wouldn’t care. Back then, I cared too much about what others think. I believe you lose some of that with age.

The child was actually scarred because she was the only one in her class without a baby book to show. No one was impressed with all the scraps of paper. My mother was probably happy because she loved filling in blanks in books. It was a happy ending.

Then there is the Coud tag line. Humor-Joy-liquor-love.  Now this is just my idea of a perfect evening. What more could you want? Oh, I know, Viggo. Yes, that would make the evening complete. Sorry, folks, it used to be Nicholas Cage but for some reason I could never remember his name and he keeps snakes. I don’t mind snakes. I’ve even held a few in my life, but I don’t want to live with them. Then he went and got married anyway. I may even have to rethink Viggo too though. I just found out he smokes. I may forgive him for it, however. How could you ever stay mad at someone with that voice and smile?

Moving right on: mother-Music-papa-Pascagula.  If that ain’t a Country Western Song waiting to be written, what is?  Mother played music while Papa ran to Pascagula. Or Mother slept with the Musician, while papa got lost in Pascagula. Oh, I know, you have to have a train. So, Mother played the musician while papa took the train to Pascagula.

Peace-petals-picnic-poem.  Images of hippies. 

This is kind of like reading old notes to yourself.  You find these notes a month later and go, “What the heck does that mean?” There is one in my computer right now that says, and I am not making this up: “Not if it is squid day.” Now, what the heck does that mean?  Please, if anyone knows, tell me. It is actually in notes from Master’s Daughters house when we were discussing things to blog about. And, that was the visit with the dippers of Jose Cuervo. Must have made sense at the time. It sure doesn’t anymore.