My mother knew many things, I do not.
How long to wait between one canning to the next
If you rush you have broken jars.
Jars containing summer fruit at the peak of its ripeness.

My mother knew about dealing with ripe teenagers
How to handle, cajole, discipline, encourage, and love
Having eight she had lots of practice.
Practice largely mostly but not always came with patience.

My mother knew about patience, however.
She knew when to swoop in to prevent a disaster
She also knew how to stay back patiently
While her children adventured outward to far away places.

My mother knew about far away places.
She traveled to some, but she read all those books
How many times did she travel with Alice to Wonderland
While her children wiggled and squirmed trying to chase that White Rabbit

My mother knew about raising and killing rabbits
She also knew how to cook them and roast them
Much to our dismay
I would however, gladly sit and eat rabbit again with my mother.

Fiddle and Faddle made a great sound.

Stomping loudly around the wood

Fiddle said “Let’s find Foe and knock him down.”

Faddle said “Oh wait my friend, I lost my hood.”

Fiddle said “Lets search the town!”

 

The two friends tromped and rambled around

Till the sun wandered low

Fiddle said “I’m getting tired”

Faddle said “My legs are sore and moving slow.”

Fiddle said “Lets home to bed and have a fire.”

 

So that was the day for Fiddle and Faddle

Two best of buds now safely tucked into bed

But what is that “Where was foe?”

Not every story must lead to tears being shed.

Foe stayed home that day making wine and baking dough.