So my penpal in Scotland shared a picture and a poem with me. The picture is her dress form. The poem, one her mother made up for her dress form, who was lovingly called "Fifi". I LOVED it and wanted to share it!
I'm a dressmaker's dummy who's seen better days.
Why?, I can remember when I wore silken stays.
I then was very smart and sofine,
But have since 'ad parasites in my spine.
My name is Fifi 'cos I am French, you see
I 'ave mixed withthe best in Society.
When elite fashion salons showed
Dress designs of the latest mode,
They were adjusted on my slender figure
And pinned to shorten or make bigger.
The fabrics were o glowrious hues
Of reds and pinks or various blues.
Drapes were carefully placed on me
By Miss Evangeline or Miss Bea.
I loved to wear each new creation
And be gazed upon with admiration.
Alas! Those wondrous day were fading
When "The House of Elliot" ceased trading.
My social life took quite a flop
When I was sold to an antique shop.
Placed amonst the memorabilia
Public gaze now seemed much chillier.
I seemed not wanted anymore,
And languished there inside that store.
One day, a lady passing by
Was 'eard to give a joyful cry,
"A dummy stand is what I need
To make my dressmaking succeed!"
She purchased me right then and there
And took me to a place elsewhere.
Although I was not richly gowned,
A different life style there I found,
As my new owner indulged in pleasure
Of wielding scissorsand tape-measure.
It gave me back my self-esteem,
Helping that dressmaker to seam.
Then came a terrible situation-
My mistress went into liquidation.
It was not the market that brought 'er down,
Pipes burst one night and she did drown.
I was cast up on the tide,
And left to stand in the cold outside.
A rag and bone dealer who had a kind heart
Gave me a ride in his rickety cart.
Then 'e sold me to the corner shop,
Where I was fated there to stop.
I was left in a bakehouse, dark and drear,
And where I stood for many a year.
Then, just when I thought all hope 'ad gone,
I was sold for a 'fiver' and so I moved on.
Again, I was used to model a dress-
Not up to my standard, but nevertheless
I was quite 'appy until the day
My mistress upped and moved away.
This time, I was put in a plastic sack
And laid in attic upon my back.
The years rolled by....Oh! Misery me!
My spine 'ad an itch, but it was no flea!
A boring woodworm had traced me down,
And inside my backbone it set up a town.
After a long tim someone raised the trapdoor,
And a head appeared thro' the attic floor.
A very kind gentleman carried me down
Ad stood me upright on the ground.
A lady said, "Fifi will be in a position
To model a costume at our exhibition."
So I was dismembered, dusted and polished,
My woodworm was spotte - it will soon be deomolished.
At PetSmart the other day, a couple came in with their little girl dog. She was licking and sniffing all over Frankie and Gracie said, "Wow Frankie, I never saw a girl so interested in you!"
Grace: "mom, why is iguana illegal? Me: frowning at her "what?!"....then it hits me " you mean marijuana?" Grace: "ya marijuana..."
Grace: we love the chilli at the school cafeteria! it comes from the milk factory! * strange look from mom and dad* Grace: ya the same people that deliver the milk deliver the chilli!
Gracie: "mom can i go downstairs and get on the computer?" Mom: "Ask your dad" Gracie: (exasperated) "Why can't i just be a free american and do what i want!" Mom: "go ask your dad if your allowed to be a free american"
"have you ever heard of tornado alley? it's where alot of tornados go alot, not many people live on that street anymore"
So I just wiped my face down with witch-hazel and frankie walked up and kissed me on the cheek, I said ewe! Witch hazel, he sputters and says I'm not sure that's good for you, I said its all natural, and in all his frankie wisdom, he sarcastically said, ya, so is poison ivy!
From Frankie; Mom is like a bloodclot in the flow of life. Get her in a crowd and she stops it up. **This came after i evidently took too long after church talking to another lady....
*queen bee was located on the window sill INSIDE the house, dad sprays with hairspray, then picks up with spoon and takes to the toilet to dispose of it. Frankie: now that's what i call a royal flush!
"i can't believe they didnt' let me see the animals! they know that i love animals! why wouldn't they let me see the animals?!"