by Charlene and Carl Strang
Mom contributed a lot of humor to our family life. One illustration of this is a poem she wrote shortly after she and Dad got married. A few years ago I set it to music and titled it “Yellow Jackets” (she simply had headed it with the year, 1949):
In the fall, before the snow, in quest of squirrel we did go.
Ted – “The Hunter” – took his gun and I went along just for the fun.
To spot a squirrel was my desire and tell the man so he could fire.
We walked around the woods a bit ‘til Ted decided we should sit.
“You sit there, right near those trees,” said he, “And I’ll stay here.”
Before I sat, I heard some bees a-buzzing in my ear.
Around and ’round my head they flew
And Ted called out, “What’s wrong with you?”
I told him what the trouble was, said he, “Come over here.”
I did, and one bee followed me, and stung him in the ear.
One nice bee was friendly and got up my trouser leg.
A few more stings, and I’d have walked as limpy as ol’ Peg!
We ran real fast and lost them then, and went to hunt elsewhere.
I hope we don’t meet bees again, they just get in my hair.