Nursery Rhyme Redo: Hey Diddle Diddle

Image source: Curt Merrill

Hey diddle diddle the cat played the fiddle 

and the cow slept in until noon

The little dog did laugh and cavort 

and then he began to croon

Did She Really Ask That?

Image source: Miriella's photostream

Back before hubby and I were married we went to visit some of his old friends, a get together held in the home of one of the guys.  The location - a former slave cabin...deep in the woods...in South Carolina.  No, it wasn't creepy, just different. 

I was a little nervous about meeting these particular friends because I wasn't the super outgoing, confident woman I am today [wink], and they were all super brains, you know the kind who can make you feel inadequate just by looking at you.  Did I mention they were musicians, too?  I felt a bit  like a goldfish who had just flopped out of his bowl - can someone give me a hand here?

However, this is what really made it  different.   Would you like fries with that?  Can I buy you a drink?  These are normal questions asked by strangers.  Upon our arrival, and at the point where one would be escorted inside and offered a drink, our hostess asked?  "Would you like to use the bathroom?"  

Pause.  What?  Um- maybe later, but I will take a jumbo-sized margarita if you have one...thanks!  No, I didn't say that...I just accepted her unique hospitality.

What was even more strange than the question, though, was the facility itself.  It was separated from the rest of  the room by a curtain.  Just a curtain to flap in the breeze.  No door, no lock for privacy, just a curtain.  Hubby-to-be  stood guard.  That was our first and last such get together.

Got a "strange" story to share?

Quote of the Week

  

Happiness does not depend on outward circumstances, but on the state of the heart. 

- J.C. Ryle

Instead of relying on others and what is going on in our lives for our happiness, we should look within ourselves.  Therein lies the root of true happiness.

Tick Tock

The old clockmaker squinted through the lens at the tiny gears.  They must mesh perfectly or it won't be accurate, and his clocks were always accurate.

Image source: tibchris' photostream

Ah, but maybe it's time to retire, to let his apprentice take over.  After all twenty years is a long time to stand in someone's shadow.

"Daniel, it's your turn."

Written for Friday Flash 55.

My House is a Fortress

Tuesday was just another day, or so I thought.  It was one of those picture perfect days, not too hot with a nice breeze.  The yard needs mowing so I change, grab a bottle of water and head out the door. What makes today different?  I close the door (I usually leave the inside door open).  OK, so you know that sinking feeling you get when you realize you've accidentally done something stupid?  That's how I felt the moment I heard the door click behind me.  I was just going to mow the yard...why did I close the door?

I reached back to check, hoping against hope that I hadn't done what I thought I just did.  Yep...locked.  Grrrr!  

Now what?  I assess what I have with me.  My pocket knife, chap stick, nail clippers and a bottle of water.

A cardinal who often visits my window sill.

Being the resourceful gal that I am, I pulled out my pocket knife.  Just for the record, I have no lock-picking skills and the knife didn't do anything anyway.  I walked around the house...thinking.  We have a few basement windows, but they don't open from the outside.  Neither do any of the other windows - they are securely locked from the inside.

There's no choice...I must call hubby and confess.  Since I don't have my cell phone, I trudge up the street to the convenience store to use the phone, make the call, and trudge back.  As usual, he takes it all in stride, explains his need to take an unplanned half day of vacation and heads home.  

It'll take at least an hour for him to get home, so I figured since I came out to mow the yard, I might as well do it while I waited.

The good news from all of this...my house, although a modest brick ranch, is really a fortress.  With the doors locked, no one (especially me) is getting in.

Care to share your best lock out stories?