Doo, Doo, Doo, Lookin' out my Front Door

This is the new view looking south from our front door.

I am not happy.

I got an email from my SIL Jane and it cracked me UP! I seriously had tears running down my face as I read it. I must share my distaste of the "monument" a little too much :) I share her email with you now:

We drove past the sleeping presidents of Rushmore on our way home from Pho Hoa a Vietnamese restaurant in West Valley...interesting cuisine, yes, oh yes, interesting). It so inspired me that I thought you an ode, and it goes a little something like this... (right hand on your heart please).

An Ode to Jamie's Joy
by Jane

While on a stretch of freeway road
traveling home to my abode
a shining mountain I behold.
A monument to men of old.

Their faces gleaming in the light
shining brightly in the night.
What could ruin this lovely sight?
A rollercoaster's cheap delight.

Then I recall your lone front door
from whence you'll see forever more
haunting faces that are stored
in your mind, one, two, three, four.

They'll be there when you wake at dawn.
They'll watch you when you mow the lawn.
And even though you want them gone,
they won't flinch, not e'en to yawn.

Yes they're posed in awkward places,
no need to travel to see their faces.
No, they can not run the bases,
or help your kids tie up their laces.

But, a contest they could win at staring.
Thieves run from their constant glaring.
Your ice-cream they will not be sharing.
Plaid and pink they won't be wearing.

All's not lost, to you they gave
their lives, the cost, beyond the grave.
Hope in your heart, the paths you'll pave
are marked for George, Tom, Ted & Abe.

Love,
Jane

Thanks Jane, it made my day, and now I'll grin every time I walk out my front door.