I'm looking for a poem that was published 8-10 years ago called "Doing the Dishes Together", I think. If you have any information about it, please let me know! Thanks in advance.

-- Sally Gordon (we3sheep@viafamily.com), December 30, 2000

Answers

Was it titled" No husband's ever been shot while doing the dishes"? heeheehee

-- sharon wt (wildflower@ekyol.com), December 30, 2000.

Do you subscribe to Countryside? The poem is on the back cover of the March/April 1989 magazine. Actually, the title of this is WASHING THE DISHES TOGETHER.

-- Jean (kjean@i-rule.net), December 30, 2000.

I don't have a back issue with the poem -- could someone please post it? I'd love to show it to my husband -- we've been married 25 years Monday, and I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he's done dishes in that 25 years! It's not that I really need the help, usually, but some company would be nice!

-- Kathleen Sanderson (stonycft@worldpath.net), December 30, 2000.

I'd like a copy, too. I even told my husband, who is a dear man in every other way, that what I'd really like for Christmas, is HELP WITH THE DISHES EVERY DAY. He just laughed, and said, ok, he'd talk to our granddaughter about it! Jan

-- Jan in Colorado (Janice12@aol.com), December 31, 2000.

WASHING THE DISHES TOGETHER Hugh D. Hughes, Gurnee, Illinois, 1896

"Tis evening time in the farmhouse old, the sun has set in its bed of gold, The cows are milked and the chores put by, We're washing the dishes-my wife and I- We're washing the dishes together.

Upon the stove the dishpan sits, So full, so bright with its china bits, The fire is losing its ruddy glow, At last the embers are dying low, As we're washing the dishes together.

Now into the drainer they're coming quick With much of merry clatter and click, My Jessie washes them while I dry; We like it thus and don't know why, As we're washing the dishes together.

"Just wed," you say? You're mistaken. No, we married some eighteen years ago. Our oldest boy is a'most sixteen And our only girl six birthdays seen, As we're washing the dishes together.

I used to think that I loved her when She was a maid; aand I did too, then. But how that love with the years has grown And I don't know how it's better shown Than by washing the dishes together.

We keep no "girl" for we can't, you know, The times are dull and the prices low. A mortgage is holding my homestead down; But my eyes of blue look into her eyes of brown, As we're washing the dishes together.

We've both worked hard as the years have passed Some shadows into our lives were cast, But someway I think that we'll pull through, It seems folks always do Who keep washing the dishes together.

Enjoy and excuse the "typos". Jean

-- Jean (Kjean@i-rule.net), December 31, 2000.

THANKS everyone for your responses... especially to Jean for posting the poem!

-- Sally Gordon (we3sheep@viafamily.com), January 01, 2001.

Thank you so much!! I'm going to print this off and share it with several people!!

-- Kathleen Sanderson (stonycft@worldpath.net), January 01, 2001.

Thanks Jean, early morning and we are "surfing together", read this out loud and choked up a bit, thanks. And thanks Sally for asking about this.

-- Tina (clia88@newmexico.com), January 03, 2001.

Thanks! Sally for asking; Jean for posting. This one will make the rounds!

-- Kathy (catfish@bestweb.net), January 03, 2001.

Thanks Jean (I guess)

I showed the poem to my wife and she tied an apron around my waist and handed me a dish towel.

(:raig

-- Craig Miller (CMiller@ssd.com), January 04, 2001.