Category: Home Life

Some fellows are handy with hammer and nails,
And some rate as whizzes with drills;
And there still others of my smarter brothers
Who’re experts on furniture ills.

Some can hang paper successfully, while
Some with their painting draw praise;
Some can do wiring with little perspiring,
And others do wonders with lathes.

I know one bright fellow who fixes it when
His radio goes on the blink;
And there’s one super chap who can leak-proof a tap,
Or set up a new kitchen sink.

But of all these who putter, I’m cleverest for
My one talent. Please stop and peruse it:
While I can’t fix a thing that breaks down, still I’m king:
I’ve a phone–and I know how to use it!

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 27, 1952

The decorators had their day;
The carpenters have gone away,
And in our home, all bright and new,
Debate reigns over what to do
About the outside. Trees and flowers
Claim our happy planning hours.

With me the thing that has the edge
On other planting is a hedge.
The artist often gets the blame
That should go rightly to the frame.
It takes a hedge, I tell my spouse,
To make a picture of a house.

by Ray Romine Saturday, January 10, 1953

Once a year we sort and burn
To clean the attic, stem to stern;
Then watch, in absolute frustration,
The day-by-day accumiilation
Of our own house, at least, it’s so
That everything get s saved but dough.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, June 23, 1953

A fuller house I have not seen
Than that of the people called McLean:
It is so cluttered up with toys,
And laughing little girls and boys,
And kiddy-cars, and tattered books,
And luscious things that mother oooks,
And sat-in chairs, discarded jeans,
And very well-read magazines,
And paper dolls, and cocker puppies,
And–perhaps the last straw–guppies,
That in this household hate and gloom
Cannot reside: there isn’t room!

by Ray Romine Friday, September 26, 1947

The Television’s on the blink;
Junior’s in his bed;
The telephone is off the hook;
The cat and dog are fed.

Contentedly we settle dovm,
To run into a riot
Of knocks from neighbors, curious
About the peace and quiet!

by Ray Romine Friday, May 29, 1953

Modern to the nth degree,
Our house still has the room
For grandma’s unchanged implement:
The straight old-fashioned broom.

And too there is a washboard
Beneath the basement stairs,
As well as other “relics”
In sundry hidden lairs.

And though of stumbling over
Such things, it’s true, we may tire,
They’re handy when our modern
Appliances go haywire!

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 15, 1951

An old-time house is one in which
The whole foundation burial
Preceeded the erection
Of the television aerial!

by Ray Romine Thursday, October 4, 1951

So THOSE are once more back in style?
We’ll have to buy one afterwhile.
We have one, yes, but it is static,
By which we mean it’s in our attic.

by Ray Romine Saturday, August 19, 1950

“It seems like a lot of fuss and trouble,
All those nails and shingles and boards and bricks
and mortar–
Just to build a house.
Don’t you sometimes wonder it it isn’t a little futile–
All that effort, all that labor?”

He looked at me quizzically, a little sadly,
“Buddy,” he said, “Somebody might appreciate it.”
And went back to work,
Short answer, but I read into it a whole lot more.

I believe he was building a home, not a house,
He was seeing Dad by the fireplace, with a magazine;
And Mom in the kitchen, humming over a new recipe;
And Junior’s trying to shave tor the first time;
And Daughter, about to be married….

He saw them love that house, all of them.
Only they never said “house”–
They said “Home,”
It was something substantial–
A bulwark against wind and cold and rain,
A sanctuary in time ot need.

I got his name and address.
When the time comes, I’d like him to drive some nails
And some of his spirit
ln my Home, too.

by Ray Romine Monday, September 8, 1947

There’s no place like home, so they say–is it true?
(I’ve always supposed it to be)
And sometime I’m gonna stay home for an hour
And see if they’re lying to me!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, February 20, 1934