Play it, Jen

Every good movie has a piano player somewhere in the background--
sometimes seen, usually unseen.
Seldom really noticed.
The feeling, the very soul of a scene, is created by that person tinkering at the keys.
It has been said, "All the world's a stage."
Well then...Play it, Jen.

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Location: Over Yonder, Missouri

I'm a California Native transplanted to the Missouri Ozarks. I've learned how to chase cows in high heels and load hay faster than you can say "Coco Chanel." These are some of our pictures and stories of living in a land with breath-taking beauty and adventure around every bend.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

My own grandpa

Many many years ago when I was twenty three,
I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be. This
widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother, for she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse, although it brought me joy, I
soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad. And so
became my uncle, though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter who, of course, was my
step-mother. Father's wife then had a son, who kept them on
the run.

And he became my grandson, for he was my daughter's son. My
wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue. Because,
although she is my wife, she's my grandma too. If my wife is
my grandmother, then I am her grandchild. And every time I
think of it, It simply drives me wild. For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw. As the husband of my
grandmother, I am my own grandpa.


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