The Lock and the Key

Said the lock to the key

Will you marry me

We'll live forever more

Here upon this weathered door

It's charming and quaint

With it's peeling paint

Said the key to the lock

It's the best on the block

It's sheltered in shade

So we'll have it made

You and me together

Forever

Posted for One-Shot Wednesday

Quote of the Week

Feelings are much like waves, we can't stop them from coming but we can choose which one to surf.  - Jonatan Mårtensson

Madeira Beach, FL

If we look at feelings like waves that keep rolling ashore, we want to choose the ones that will give us the best ride and be least likely to cause a wipe out.  In other words, focus on the good feelings, ones that uplift you and keep you on an even keel.  Otherwise you may find yourself treading water.

Verbal Confusion

OK, so we get in the car to go for lunch.  The A/C is on and it hits hubby right in the face.  Now I drove the car last, and even though he is some 9 inches taller than me, the seat height adjustment puts our faces at approximately the same level.  That means that when I have the three closest vents pointing at my poor, overheated face, he gets a face full the next time he drives.  "You have all three vents blowing on your face?"  My explanation is this:  "Well, when I've been out and I'm hot and I'm stuff."  "So is that a roundabout way of saying that you're hot stuff?"  At which I laugh so hard I could barely breathe.  

Isn't it great when you can have a good laugh at yourself?

Shattered Dreams

Photo courtesy of  Magpie Tales

It was a house like any other in this quiet, upper-class, suburban neighborhood...or so it would appear.  With fresh paint and new cedar shingles, it nearly glows as the evening sun dips low in the sky.  On the inside, the setting is spacious and elegant.  It exudes a kind of an old world charm with furnishings from across the globe.  However, in the fall as the trees lose their leaves and the moon is full, the house takes on a different air.  If you look through the windows you may see an eerie glow moving around the room.  It lasts but a few minutes, and then disappears as if snuffed out.

The house was built some 75 years ago by a wealthy man for his young bride.  It was built from the finest materials that money could buy.  The furniture was custom made in England, and was shipped over by freighter, along with china and crystal.  There were Persian rugs upon the polished oak floors and chandeliers that sparkled like a thousand diamonds.  It was a dream come true for the young woman, for her life with her handsome husband to be lived out here.  They would throw lavish parties, raise beautiful children and grow old together here.  

However, fate is cruel, and on a trip to purchase yet more trinkets for his lovely wife, the train he was riding violently derailed.  The cars were nothing but twisted steel and mangled bodies beneath the fullness of the moon.  At home, his bride awaited his return with a candle upon her desk by the window.  All night she waited, alone and worried.  She had received no word, and knew not of the wreck.  The next day a telegram was delivered.  The terse message conveyed only the barest details of the accident, and that her husband was among the dead.  

Clutching the telegram, she sobbed uncontrollably and staggered up the stairs.  She had almost reached the landing when, in her grief, she missed the last step and tumbled back down the steps.  As she lay at there in her last moments of life, her mind returned to the past night when her husband was still coming home to her.  Each fall, around the time of her death, when the moon is full, her candle can be seen as she wanders through the house waiting for him to come home.

After the death of the young couple, the house was sold, fully furnished.  The new owners and their children and grandchildren have lived in harmony with the former resident.

Written for Magpie Tales #29.

Those Who Read Blogs Together

Have some odd conversations.  Here's a couple blurbs from last night.

Hubby said, "Redhead had a new one 8 hours ago."  

Me:  "Yeah, I read it, the one about..." 

Him:  "eHarmony Fail."  

"Yeah, that one."  He reads for a minute then asks, "what about that guy she had the date with?" 

"I don't know - someone asked the same question, but I read, commented and moved on.   I haven't been back yet to see if she said anything about it." 

Next:

"Did you read Babs Beetle?"  

Me:  "I did."  

Him:  "She has closed angle glaucoma."  

Me:  "Same as me." 

As he read through the comments, he noticed one where someone using eye drops not only missed her eye, but actually missed her entire face.  As he started to remark on that, he realized it was my comment, and said "I thought that sounded familiar", and I said, "that would be me."

I blog and he reads.  I think he got into it when I showed him the now famous Junk Drawer.  Any of y'all share your favorite reads?