with a song in my heart and a joke on my lips

Mama would have loved this joke!
She always had a fondness for puns and twisted lines...
... just like me!

This one is in honor of the approaching St. Patrick's Day festivities.

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An inventor came up with a knife that sliced two loaves of bread at a time. He sold it to a large bakery.

Then he developed a knife that could slice three loaves of bread at a time! He sold that to a bakery, too.

Finally, his ultimate invention was achieved: a knife that sliced four loaves at a time!

And so was born the world's first four-loaf cleaver.

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Here are a couple more from my childhood. I've expounded on them a bit, but the tales remain, at their hearts, as I had heard them told.

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Once there were two kingdoms. Each was located at the top of a hill, with a beautiful view of of the neighboring castle and surroundings.

The Red King's domain reflected the many rosy hues of the world in its buildings and flora.

The Blue King's realm held the tones of the ocean and its depths in the structures and plants.

Between the two kingdoms lay a valley, of course, but it was not part of either domain. It was peopled by a fierce tribe of cannibals known as the Yellow Fingers.
No one was permitted to travel there... except in an emergency.

One day, such an emergency arose. The Red King was finally to wed and wanted his brother, the Blue King, to be his best man. But how to deliver the invitation to him?
He called for his bravest knight, Sir Tasty, to carry the message.

The Yellow Fingers found his name to be quite descriptive of his better characteristics.
The Blue King heard the commotion and guessed that a message was on its way. He wisely chose to wait for its arrival.

The Red King asked next for a volunteer among his many knights.
Sir Toasty agreed to venture forth in the king's name.

The Yellow Fingers appreciated that the king had sent them someone who so favored a giant marshmallow in taste and texture.
The Blue King again heard the celebration down in the valley, the celebration which meant the message was not to be delivered this time, either.

The Red King was becoming desperate.
Time was becoming short for the tailor to make the best man's raiments for the wedding.
The word was sent to all of his subjects that he was in urgent need of a messenger.
One of his Pages, the sincere Trusty, came forward to his call.
He would carry the message to the Blue King.

And so he did. Then, Trusty escorted the Blue King back to the Red King's realm, walking through the valley below. And after the wedding festivities were ended, the Page and the Blue King traversed the cannibals' land again before the Page's own return once more to the Red Hill.

The moral of the story:
Let your Pages do the walking through the Yellow Fingers.

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A young man was heartbroken. Not yet twenty-one years old and already one-eyed. A terrible car wreck had necessitated the removal of his left eye to save his life.
What was left of it, he thought.
What girl would ever want anything to do with a one-eyed man?
The doctors had fitted him with the best painted wooden eye that money could buy, but to no avail.
The young man knew which eye was fake and thought everyone else could, too.

His best friend did what best friends do: he tried to cheer the young man up.
"A square dance is coming on Saturday next - let's go to it", the friend said. "You'll see! Plenty of young girls will want to dance with such a charming lad as yuourself!"

Finally, albeit reluctantly, the young man agreed to accompany his pal to the square dance.

The day arrived and the young man was ready. He had a new haircut and he wore his best western wear. His eye was well in place and he had been practicing the moves all week.
He was ready!
The two friends walked in together, with the best friend agreeing to help him find the best girl to ask for a dance. gazing around the room, they both saw her at the same time: the beautiful blonde standing shyly with the other wallflowers.
On closer view, they could see that she was hiding her very large right ear behind her beautiful tresses.
That emboldened the young man. She wasn't perfect, either!
Leaving his best friend's side, the young man approached the beautiful girl.

The words flew from his lips. "Would you like to dance?"

Gazing into his face, the girl gladly replied, "Oh, would I! Would I!"

"Big ear! Big ear!" the young man screeched as he fled the dance.

Moral of the story:
We hear what we want to hear.

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That's it for now.
Color me gone!