He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake,
He said my biscuits were too hard
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.

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Susan notes: when I posted these photographs in the autumn of 2010, I was fascinated by the first image of the motorcycle in the living space. I stared at it for a long, long time, and wondered at the story behind it. The image struck me as being artfully beautiful, and something about it touched me, for some reason I couldn't put my finger on. Today, March 6, 2011, I discovered why it had given me pause... the answer is in Anna's comment below....

A man and a woman who had never met before, but who were both married to other people,found themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a trans-continental train.

Though initially embarrassed and uneasy over sharing a room, they  were both very tired and fell asleep quickly, he in the upper berth and she in  the lower.

At 1:00 AM, the man leaned down and gently woke the woman saying,..........   'Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you be willing to reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I'm awfully cold.'