Mother (Winifred) Hubbard and her unfortunate dog Roosevelt
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To give the poor dog a bone;
When she came there,
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.
Went to the cupboard,
To give the poor dog a bone;
When she came there,
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.
Roosevelt and I are both unfortunate. He, because the cupboard was bare. I, because although I love competition, the State Fair is really no place for me and my work.
I spoke to the most hate filled ladies at the State Fair, this morning about my submission. This is not my first tussle with these darlings; we square off at least once a year with regard to my wine submissions equally not to their liking for one numb skull reason of another. This time, they possess neither the time, nor manpower to carry my “Mother and THAT dog,” the lovely on the other end of the phone calls it, into another competition three days later to which the rules say I am within full rights to do so.
I loved the theme of Mother Goose this year, who wouldn’t resist making jumping, flying leaping things, cats and dogs, cows and moons and candles sticks, the possibilities boundless and just the thing to jump start my summer time baked brain, stalled creativity….not really stalled just a bit sluggish and covered in construction dust so what else is new, for the Klintzes are always building something……
Here they are, Mother Hubbard (I called her Winfred) because I just so happen to have a gold pin perfect for the lace with that name Winifred on it! Roosevelt ? same deal…woof…woof!
