Day 510: Down Under

It was a dismal morning. A slow, steady rain was falling, and Laetitia held a raised umbrella as she walked down Raglan Road toward the Emerald Victorian, clad in a raincoat and boots. Although some might find such a day depressing, Laetitia didn’t, because it was her almost day off. It had been about thirty days since she had had her last break from leading a tour, so she was due for another one. She still had to post a limerick, but she didn’t need to lead a tour. She ascended the front steps onto the porch, shook the water off her umbrella, unlocked the big front door, and went inside.

A bit later, with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, she walked around the library, scanning the book titles as she tried to think of the day’s limerick. There was something comforting about being surrounded by books on a rainy day. Laetitia was tempted to browse the collection until she found a book she liked and then spend the day reading it, but she had to write a limerick first. Then it occurred to her that she ought to check her email.

When she did, she found no emails from Mind’s Eye headquarters—wherever that was—but there was one from her grandmother who was traveling in Australia with “the girls,” as she called her circle of friends her own age. The email read, “We’re having a great time and wish you were here. I know you’re not leading a tour today, but you still have to post a limerick, so I took the liberty of writing one for you.” Laetitia smiled, posted the limerick to the Mind’s Eye website, poured another cup of coffee, pulled out a book, settled into an overstuffed chair, and began to read.

Yank ladies, it’s time to regale ya
‘Bout manners of speech in Australia
Where skivvies ain’t underwear
But turtlenecks, and be aware
Your fannies are your genitalia.

Day 133: Mossyrock Tabletalk

En route to Oregon, the Mind’s Eye tour group stopped at the Mount Saint Helens National Volcanic Monument and viewed the area devastated by the eruption in 1981. They stopped for lunch in Mossyrock, Washington. A bicycle tour group from nearby Centralia was having lunch in the same café, and Laetitia overheard a conversation that she thought would make a good limerick, which she presented at dinner that evening.

When a lady who lived in Centralia
On a bicycle tour of Australia
Said, “My fanny’s tired out”
Wild laughter broke out
For there fanny means genitalia.

Day 72: Wide Load

Laetitia met her group in the small town of Kilmoganny, in County Kilkenny. During the orientation that she gave before they went off on a bicycle tour of the Kilmacoliver Loop, a very large woman on a bicycle named Franny stopped to talk to them. When Franny rode off, she went by a group of boys who shouted taunts at her. Laetitia couldn’t hear what they said, so she made something up when she posted the limerick of the day. She received an almost immediate email response from the central office of Mind’s Eye Limerick Tours pointing out to her that the word “fanny” has a different meaning in Ireland than it does in America. Laetitia looked up the difference and posted a correction and an apology of sorts in limerick form. Thus, this day has two limericks instead of one.

A buxom old biker named Franny
Amused young boys in Kilmoganny
As she sped down the road
They yelled, “Look out! Wide load!”
And then ducked to avoid her huge fanny.

The English tongue often plays pranks
For while “fanny” means buttocks to Yanks
In Ireland and Australia
It means genitalia
For your patience, I offer my thanks.