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Dear Ann Landers,
have read some awfully good poems in your column over the years. Here's a "payback." It appeared in a little publi-cation called "Time-Out" in Greenfield Park, Ohio-author unknown. Thanks for years of great reading. -A Loyal Ann Fail

Dear Loyal,
Thanks for a delightful addition to my column. I loved it and am sure my readers will, too. Day Off The dishes are all piled high in the sink. The garbage pail is filled to overflowing. The hamper is stuffed right up to the brink. And the carpets all seem to need mowing. The dust is as high as a chipmunk's chin. The den's a disaster zone. The upstairs smells like a hive of sin. (Who dropped the eau de cologne?) The bread box is empty, the ashtrays are full. There's a gift from the cat in the hall. I .1 II I ANN LAN l)E IIS The bathtub's a swamp, the kids all missed school. And dinner, a hard frozen ball. Yesterday's paper's all over the house. (The dog decided to chew it.) What does a housewife do all day long ... Today, I just didn't do it!



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Dear Readers,
, whatever they needed I provided. What really hurt my son and I the most was the obituary - we were not mentioned at all. Our friends (mine and hers) were appalled. I was embarrassed and upset for not just me, but for my son-who loved her also. I never been so upset. Her x-husband put his wife and kids and their grandchildren in the obituary, who my girlfriend barely knew. They live an hour away from us. I know its silly to be mad over a little section of the newspaper, but it still hurts. Will time let this devastating loss of her and this article ever go away? I am so angry at this whole situation, its not like we can go and rewrite an obituary notice.

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"Nobody ever drowned in his own sweat."
-Ann Landers