My Role as a Woman

WARNING: LONG POST

Don't you love the economy? Because I do. It is a wonderful, fantastic thing that is going exactly as I wanted, and I'm so overjoyed by this experience that I'm blogging about it.

Hello. My name is Tasha. I'm overly sarcastic.

I have been having some interesting discussions lately about the role of women, how it's changing. I've even heard that it is the thing that Sandra Bullock was talking about three years ago when she started the adoption process on her new son. As much as I like her, that's not what this blog is about.

A week ago, I had the opportunity to attend a regional LDS relief society meeting with Sheri Dew as a guest speaker. If I were going to pick two women who I would consistently jump at the chance to listen to, she would be one and Mary Ellen Edmunds the other. They are women who didn't necessarily have life go the way they planned or how they were told it should. I get that. I completely relate.

Let me explain. When I was growing up, I thought mom's went to school to be smart enough to have something to fall back on if their husbands died and to be smart enough to help their kids do their homework. A GOOD wife is content to stay home with the children, may run a small business on the side to have some extra money and is so happy to be mom.

I have known since I lived in a little apartment in Orem, UT with a working husband and staying completely at home for the first time in my marriage with a baby that the role of a full time stay at home mom was not for me. I almost lost my mind several times. I'm not one who cries very much, but I was all the time. I was not at all a joy to live with and felt like I was the biggest jerk in the world that every moment with my newborn son was not fulfilling for me.

I know many AMAZING women who have complete joy in staying with their children, they feel such satisfaction in experiencing their everyday looks, discoveries, etc. I ADORE my children, am thrilled when they want to come snuggle with me, love that my girls love to do my hair, want to bake, that they want to collect everything and think they are about a cute as anyone when they are in their little costumes or uniforms performing.

But when I was doing just this, I was depressed. I felt picked on, neglected, ignored and unnecessary for anything but cooking and cleaning. I know that most women go through these periods, but I couldn't get out of it.

So now I work. I LOVE what I do for work - I really do. But with the economy, what started as a way to jointly create income and shifted to me carrying a decent amount of the burden. I'm so incredibly GRATEFUL that I have this job - I honestly don't know where we would be without it. But that at times is a burden I didn't think I'd feel. It has made me appreciate the stress that husbands often have of carrying the burden of money and still being a fully invested parent.

Back to Sheri Dew - she spoke of the importance of magnifying our role - whatever that may be. Mothers are absolutely the foundation of society and the presence of one who cares about her kids absolutely has an impact on that child. Trust me, I work with teens from all different aspects and I can always tell who has a mom that cares.

It is a difficult thing to explain to "traditionalists" that I'm carrying so much of the financial part of the relationship right now, that Enoch is a tremendous help around home, and while it hasn't shifted completely, there is somewhat of a role reversal going on right now. And, being prone to self- inflicted guilt trips, I sometimes feel like maybe I'm not the mom that everyone else is, that I'm neglecting my kids if I'm not in 100% attendance at every event of every child and volunteering in the classroom every week.

I'm learning to cut myself some slack. I don't get after Enoch if he misses part or all of a game because he's working. The kids don't come in with sad puppy eyes if he isn't at the whole thing. No one goes to bed feeling neglected if the dishes aren't washed that night, or there's still some laundry not folded and in the living room.

I'm a damn good mom. My kids all do a decent job in their games, are at or above level in school, learning how to play the piano, and know how to clean their rooms, even if they don't all the time, and know how to behave in all kinds of social situations. It's okay for me to be sane, working, providing - I can do that and still be a loving mom. My role right now isn't traditional - I don't know that it ever was intended to be. But at this point in my life - I feel satisfied, full of joy and incredibly blessed.

I feel a manifestation that the Lord is pleased with what I'm doing right now. He told me that I would have the opportunity to teach many students, both those who are of the faith and those who aren't, and that I would have a powerful impact on them, that they would remember me as one who cared about them. My ultimate goal is to have my children always know they are the tops, they are my favorite, they are my loves, life and priorities. I'm thrilled that I have a husband who is okay with that, who doesn't mind picking up the slack that may be left behind because of that (usually the dishes) and that I have a Heavenly Father who knew me well enough to let me be born at a time when I could do this and be a mom.

I am truly blessed.

Spell Check is NOT your friend

As most of you may know, I'm an English teacher. As such, I am in a position to read LOTS of papers and have discovered many typos that are not caught by spell check and very much alter the meaning. Sometimes they are just too funny to keep to myself. So, when I find them, I'm going to share them, anonymously of course.

Today's sentence.

"In eighth grade is when I first noticed my tacky cardia."

Hate those mismatched, poorly coordinated hearts...

The Mystery Date

Enoch and I have really been trying to find time to date each other lately. We agreed to follow this idea (but did not sign the contract) to do a date a week, most of them at home after the kids have gone to bed, alternating who is in charge and just watching TV does not count. Last week, we got invited by my sister and her husband to go play at the local golf course.

I took 20 strokes off of my game and hit a 70 instead of a 90 - aren't you impressed!!!

Okay, we only played nine holes. Probably shouldn't make that call to the LPGA yet...

Anyway, last week was my week and I thought I would tie it in with the date of the month that Enoch selected (for March...yea, got a little behind) which was the mystery date.

When I put that option for him, I thought it sounded like lots of fun, but then when it came time to actually implement it, I struggled. What was the mystery, how much, how could I pull it off, etc. Then, epiphany came from here and I gave him a piece of paper where he had to pick one out of each of the following pairs of choices.

Hot/Cold

Sword/Whip

High/Low

Light/Dark

Needless to say, the sword/whip choice had him VERY confused, but that's part of the fun, right? So, after he made his selections, I started him out on the date (a week later).

I gave him an envelope that was sealed and gave some instructions for him to drive to a particular location. (Drive down Midvalley and then Minersville, getting on to I-15 going south, exit when you can see the lighthouse, turn right at the light, turn right again as soon as you can, enter the location with a girl surrounded in green, upon entering, open the envelope and follow the instructions).

I put a ten dollar bill and my order for caramel apple cider with whipped cream and told him to order what he wanted. Then return home. (HOT)

Then, when we had finished our drinks, we broke out the game controllers and played a level of Lego Indiana Jones. (WHIP)

For those of you with inquiring minds, the sword was Lego Star Wars...:)

He then got a really good, long, relaxing back massage (HIGH - low would have been feet)

For the last one he selected dark.

Moving on.

It turned out to be really fun, and cost me $5.00 plus the gas for him to drive in and back out. The kids were in bed the whole time and it was fun to just hang out and have fun like we used to "way back in the day." I know there are many who are frustrated with things in their lives, and we (men & women) tend to take things out on our spouses. But when you were dating, did you? We know there is stress, but try this idea - shoot for once a week, but if you need to start with once a month, it's better than nothing. It's nice to remember on a regular basis how to have fun with your spouse. And it doesn't have to cost a gajillion dollars either.

All the links in this post have amazing ideas on how to have fun, rekindle the romance and keep it very under budget, regardless of what your budget is.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

This is a book that I have been curious about for over a year, but for whatever reason kept putting it off. Dumb, dumb, dumb. This is an AMAZING book. I know, I really love books, but I fell in love with this one very quickly and found it consumed my thoughts until it was finished. It is a beautiful, delightful, charming book that I simply adore.

This is the story about a group of people who survived WWII on an island that was expected to harbor the German military. It is a little island in the English channel, and they were completely cut off from any communication, food was scarce, they had sent most of their children to live with others in England proper and endured many hardships, including an ever changing and forcibly controlled curfew. One night, a group of people are stopped by a German guard, and in an impromptu decision, they create a literary society as a cover for why they were really meeting. Then, when the occupation and war are over, a woman discovers this island, it's people and the amazing stories they have to tell about this time.

I wish people still wrote letters after reading this. I am amazed at the voice that the authors were able to capture through the letter writing format. I was a little hesitant, curious as to whether or not it would get confusing, but the characters seemed so real to me. Such an amazing book (Laurel, really, give me another chance - try this one, if none of the others...) This book feels like that blanket most of us had as kids - friendly, comforting, inviting - I really did love this book and regret that I waited so long to read it. Please, give it a try.

Celebrating and Refocusing

I'm not sure this is new news at this point as Enoch texted everyone in his phone and I posted it on Facebook, but I successfully defended my Master's thesis and will be graduating a week from tomorrow. I've had so many people ask me if I'm thrilled and on a high.

The answer?

No.

I'm tired, exhausted, lacking motivation and wanting to have a lazy day. I think I'll probably hit that high next week during the celebrations, etc. but I'm really just worn out for now. Super glad to be done and moving on to other things, don't get me wrong. But I've been pushing pretty hard for the last year and a half and I think it finally caught up with me :)

With that being done, I'm hoping that now this can turn back into a blog about something besides books. I still plan on reading and posting all my reviews, and summer's coming up so it will probably pick up the pace a bit. But I really, really want to bake.

I'm planning on making these VERY soon, want to make some scrabble cookies like these but maybe not quite on the scale that she did. I am Baker has the best recipe and tutorials for making amazing looking cookies that I just have to try out.

My girls REALLY want to do more baking as well, and in my dream land, I would buy some of these

but maybe I'll just visit my neighbor's fabric shop and break out my sewing machine and make some myself.

In other words, I'm getting domestic about my life and am super excited :)

On Writing

For those of you who have read this blog for any amount of time, you will be well aware of the fact that I have a general like for most books and I read all different kinds of genres. The one genre I really haven't gotten into (and not sure that I will) is horror fiction. I teach the horror story to my creative writing students (they love it - gets them writing) but I really haven't read much. But I kept hearing about how this book was one of the greatest on the craft of writing and exceptionally real. I put it off for two years and finally picked it up. I figured it was in my classroom and I recommended it to my writing students so I should read it right? I was pleasantly surprised at how much enjoyability I found in reading this book.

The first 100 or so pages of this book are some of King's memories - his horrific, chronic ear infections that had to be drained, his natural draw to the old horror films as a child and his early passion to write. He covers a bit about meeting his wife, Tabitha, his passion for writing, and getting the idea to write his first book, Carrie. He also covers the great number of rejection letters he received through his career, the crap jobs he worked trying to make it as a writer and the day things started to turn around. Then, he spends the rest of the book talking about what he considers to be the essential skills a writer should possess, what is important and what is crap (he chooses some other words...) and reminds the reader many times that nothing matters if the story isn't good.

I LOVED this book. I laughed out loud several times, which I really did not expect. As before mentioned, I have not read any of his books, but I wonder if his tone is as straightforward there as it was here. I think that is one of the reasons I loved this book. I appreciated the praise he gave to many authors, but also the way he would state both name and work when he found something that was a disgrace. His boldness was refreshing, especially in a world where everyone LOVES everything anyone has written. While I really, really want to be a published writer, I really want to be one that is GOOD - not one who is published for the sake of publishing. If nothing else, reading this book reinforced that idea, and has me very excited to get going.

*DISCLAIMER: There is some pretty strong language in this book - not really excessive, but still there. If ANY of the swear words offend you, this may not be the work for you.

My Pre-Order Cart w/Amazon

These are the books currently set to be sent to my house on their release date. I also have Forge by Laurie Halse Anderson and Alcatraz versus the Shattered Lens, but they don't have pretty covers to show you yet.

Take Two Chocolates and Call Me in the Morning

I bought this book when I went to Time Out for Women after I heard Emily Watts speak. She was hilarious and down to earth - reminded me a bit of Mary Ellen Edmunds, and I wanted something fun to read. Obviously, it's taken me a while to get to this one, but I found it was just the book I needed at the time.

Emily is a working mom, but that doesn't mean the book will have no application for the stay at home moms. If we are being honest, both are kindof both anyway. She talks about ways to manage a crazy busy life, how to balance what mom wants and what kids need. I loved her stories, laughed out loud on more than one occasion. Her life lessons were perfect. I also loved how she has had body image issues that she has battled her whole life. There are very, VERY few people I know who look in the mirror each day and say, "Thank you Lord for this perfect body that I would not change one bit." I love the way Emily deals with this topic and so many others.

This book is broken up into chapters in such a way that you could choose to read the book in order or jump around from chapter to chapter as your whim dictates. I am having a hard time right now thinking of a woman who I know reads this blog that this book wouldn't be good for. It isn't brain taxing - a nice book to read before falling asleep and ending the day on a good note. Best when read with a little chocolate...

Everything is Fine.

I had this book recommended at the UVU conference last year, and praised by some Utah authors as a book they wished they had written but didn't, but I forgot about my list until I saw this book in our school's library. The picture of the girl stuck with me from the conference and this author is friends with Carol Lynch Williams so I figured she had to be decent. I was pleasantly surprised.

This is the story about a girl who is living with her mom while her dad is working. Her parents aren't separated, but they might as well be. She is in charge of her mom, who apparently has something very wrong, but it isn't known immediately what that is. This young girl deals with the frustration of people who are supposed to help her, but don't, and people (the government) who want to help her but she doesn't want their help. As the story progresses, the reader gets to learn about her family, what has happened, what's wrong with her mother and understand (remember) what it is like being a girl who wants to be woman, but just isn't yet.

This story was addicting. It is a short book - took me maybe an hour-ish to read, but I was blown away by the narrative skills. I loved the way this was told, that the reader doesn't know immediately what is going on in this house. I know that Ann Dee Ellis is a new author, but I hope to find some more of her writing. If it is this good, I know I won't be disappointed.

The Pulley

The Pulley - George Herbert

WHEN God at first made Man,

Having a glass of blessings standing by—

Let us (said He) pour on him all we can;

Let the world’s riches, which dispersèd lie,

Contract into a span.

So strength first made a way,

Then beauty flow’d, then wisdom, honour, pleasure;

When almost all was out, God made a stay,

Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure,

Rest in the bottom lay.

For if I should (said He)

Bestow this jewel also on My creature,

He would adore My gifts instead of Me,

And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:

So both should losers be.

Yet let him keep the rest,

But keep them with repining restlessness;

Let him be rich and weary, that at least,

If goodness lead him not, yet weariness

May toss him to My breast.

Alcatraz Versus The Knights of Crystallia

This is the third book in the Alcatraz series and it has been sitting at my house for about four months waiting for me to get to it (don't worry, there are about 15 more also waiting their turn - it didn't feel too left out). This continues the series with Alcatraz still trying to figure out the master plan of the Evil Librarians and solving some new mysteries on the way as well.

Alcatraz is going with his grandfather because the Librarians say they want to sign a treaty but something sounds a little strange. He is concerned because of the events that have lead to Bastille just not being herself, and he is starting to discover that maybe his talent goes beyond just breaking things. There is a librarian who says she doesn't want to be anymore but can she be trusted? And Alcatraz is now trying to convince his reader that he is a superhero, exuding kindness - not the evil, manipulative young man he spent the last two books trying to convince you he was.

These are the kinds of books that you need to pick up when you want to read, but don't really have the mental energy to devote. They are completely appropriate for any reader who understands sarcasm, fun, lighthearted and full of several laugh out loud moments. This was the perfect read when I wanted to escape my thesis, but couldn't really - at least not all the way yet. Read the first two before this one, because Alcatraz will mock you if you didn't. Just a head's up. :)

Affirmation

One of mine...

Affirmation

-Tasha Seegmiller

It looked like heaven, the snow

cleansing tumultuous world.

Scarlet sins,

erased, just as Isaiah said.

Sun slithers across the sky

such spotlessness is short;

society spoils celestial aspirations

following misguided light.

I rose from the water

the first time I found heaven.

Born, again, but this time

without the tears or the trauma,

protected by the strength and love of my

father’s hands.

Such perfection would guarantee

my entrance through St. Peter’s gates.

But I am human

imperfect, stained.

One among millions

who ruin innocence.

I found heaven once more,

Kneeling across an altar from

my best friend, he and I in perfect white

having heard from many

it’s never too late.

He tells me I’m an angel

One who guides his way -

but he is mine,

and I am his and we are unified.

Heaven isn’t solitary confinement,

unity is the governing principle

as Lucifer knows, or knew,

this world could have been. His

pride the ruler,

humility the slave

But that isn’t the way in heaven.

Once again, snowflakes merge

reminders of hope amid winter’s grasp.

Miniscule angels joined together

to gently make the earth,

if but for a moment,

pure.

anyone lived in a pretty how town

This is one of those poems that when I first read it, I wondered what on earth e e cummings was thinking/smoking/doing. It made no sense. But I had an amazing teacher who walked me through. If you take the time to read this, pretend anyone is the name of a man in the town and noone is the name of a woman - it should help a little. :)

anyone lived in a pretty how town

by E. E. Cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

If you are interested, you can read a pretty good analysis of this poem here.

Ballad of Birmingham

The four children who were the inspiration for this poem.

"Mother dear, may I go downtown

Instead of out to play,

And march the streets of Birmingham

In a Freedom March today?"

"No, baby, no, you may not go,

For the dogs are fierce and wild,

And clubs and hoses, guns and jails

Aren't good for a little child."

"But, mother, I won't be alone.

Other children will go with me,

And march the streets of Birmingham

To make our country free."

"No baby, no, you may not go

For I fear those guns will fire.

But you may go to church instead

And sing in the children's choir."

She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,

And bathed rose petal sweet,

And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,

And white shoes on her feet.

The mother smiled to know that her child

Was in the sacred place,

But that smile was the last smile

To come upon her face.

For when she heard the explosion,

Her eyes grew wet and wild.

She raced through the streets of Birmingham

Calling for her child.

She clawed through bits of glass and brick,

Then lifted out a shoe.

"O, here's the shoe my baby wore,

But, baby, where are you?"

Daffodils

Usually, around this time of year, I find myself really missing Washington. I haven't gone to check, but this similar sentiment has probably been uttered about April since I had this blog. It usually is due to several factors - one, is spring still isn't really here and I'm tired of winter. Two, Washington state has some of the most beautiful springs I've ever seen. Three, the annual Skagit Valley tulip festival is in full bloom, and I miss seeing those beautiful acres of blooming tulip colors and fields and fields of brilliant yellow daffodils. So I usually end up thinking of Wordsworth.

The Daffodils

- William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee:

A Poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Power

This is one of the first poems I give my students each year when we study poetry. It is simple to understand, but has an incredibly powerful message.

Power

No one we knew had ever stopped a train

Hardly daring to breathe, I waited

Belly-down with my brother

In a dry ditch

Watching through the green thickness

Of grass and willows.

Stuffed with crumpled newspapers,

The shirt and pants looked real enough

Stretched out across the rails. I felt my heart

Beating against the cool ground

And the terrible long screech of the train’s

Braking began. We had done it.

Then it was in front of us –

A hundred iron wheels tearing like time

Into red flannel and denim, shredding the child

We had made – until it finally stopped.

My brother jabbed at me,

Pointed down the tracks. A man

Had climbed out of the engine, was running,

In our direction, waving his arms,

Screaming that he would kill us –

Whoever we were.

Then, very close to the spot

Where we hid, he stomped and cursed

At the rags and papers scattered

Over the gravel from our joke.

I tried to remember which of us

That red shirt had belonged to,

But morning seemed too long ago, and the man

Was falling, sobbing, to his knees.

I couldn’t stop watching.

My brother lay next to me,

His hands covering his ears,

His face pressed tight to the ground.

-Corrine Hales

When they finish reading it, I always ask - how many children died or lost their childhood?

More than Roger Rabbit knew

How many of you remember Who Framed Roger Rabbit? You may have to go digging back in the memory a little bit, but I'm pretty sure most of you do.

If you will remember, in there, he is having problems in his marriage to his ridiculous wife who made (makes) women all over the world have a complex because we can NEVER look that way. I mean, really, she keeps that hair perfectly in place all the time. The products that are available to animated women is just simply unfair.

What? Isn't that what you were thinking too? I thought so.

Anyway, Roger gets the idea to write his wife, Jessica, a poem to tell her how much he loves her. Anyone remember how it starts?

"How do I love thee, let me count the ways....one...two...three...four....."

Remember?

That was my first exposure to this poem. It actually took me a long time to want to read this poem because I thought it was just a cheesy love poem that some love sick, pathetic, hopeless romantic wrote about some boy she was crushing on and then killed herself when he married someone else. But that couldn't be further from the truth. The poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, knew a great deal about love, sacrificed her relationship with her father in order to marry the man she corresponded with over almost two years. And this girl knew how to use words.

So that brings us to her words. I love this poem. I'm in awe at the concept in the second and third lines. This kind of love goes beyond the marriage vows that are common among other faiths. But the best part is her recognition that her ability to love now is minimal compared to how she will be able to love after death. Enjoy!

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

National Poetry Month

I spend a great deal of time on this blog talking about books. At this point, it should be no secret that I love books. I know, I know. I'll give you a moment to overcome your shock. Have you regained your composure? Done telling all your friends that bit of breaking news? Okay. :)

What some people may or may not know is I really love poetry as well. Really, really love it. I adore the feeling of taking a piece of poetry and work through it and really understand it. I love going back to it again and again, looking at the imagery, appreciating the line breaks, the amazing choice of words - you get the picture.

That brings us to April. You may or may not know that this is National Poetry Month. I usually acknowledge that it is a cool thing and then move on my merry little way. But I really want to get back to poetry, experiencing that thrill of reading an amazing poem. Maybe, if I'm feeling extraordinarily brave, I'll share some I've written. And, sometime this month, I'll be writing a lovely piece of exceptionally cheesy poetry for my sister through marriage (I hate that in law part) because of her accomplishments in the MMM.

What does this have to do with you? Well, the poems that I have really grown to love over the years will be featured here. I figure you are more likely to read a poem if it is posted on a blog than if I were to just tell you to go here (but if you are interested, they are emailing a poem a day during April). And, if you are like me, sometimes it is nice to have direction if you are experiencing something new instead of being overwhelmed by the thousands of something someone loves.

How often will this happen? Who knows. Chances are pretty decent that during the week of April 19, pretty often because I have to administer end of level tests, stay in the room for 87 minutes at a time but do pretty much nothing. And that is the week I'm set to defend my thesis so I'll need some escapism (Why am I nervous? No clue. I did a good job. It'll be fine...it'll be fine...it'll be fine...)

Tied in with this, I have been wanting for the last few years to go back and really spend some time with Mr. Eliot (T. S. that is - notice the initials?) So I'm going to work through The Wasteland off and on through this month. It's a doozy, and I studied it once before, but that was before I had kids and forgot where part of my brain went. (Tiana, if you are reading this I may be coming to you to see if you have more of your brain left that I do...:)

If you have a favorite poem, please let me know in the comments and I'll add it to the mix. Or feature it on your blog. Either way, it should be some nerdy poetic fun.