Like the words to an old song,
they keep going ’round in my mind.
as I recall.
my husband and I
had decided to raise sheep.
The idea itself was a bit unexpected.
After all, we have this little farm.
Our grandkids live next door,
it would be fun.
It wasn’t long
before my husband came home
he’d found a lamb.
In fact, he’d found two, a male and a female.
They were orphans.
They needed people to love them.
I don’t remember the exact time frame
as the events began to unfold.
It wasn’t long after their arrival,
I casually suggested we should start
a flock of sheep.
After all, we have “Bo” and “Betsy” and the grandkids love them.
We have this big old barn
with nothing in it but nothing.
It was then we began our search for mature ewes.
We would use them to build our flock.
We had “Bo”.
He wasn’t what you’d call a breeder yet,
when he was no longer “a lamb.”
was quickly put into action.
My husband had been in the retail hardware business for several years.
I owned and operated a Hallmark shop.
This would be fun.
A little something extra to give us a new hobby.
who was interested in our lambing operation.
I was more than happy
to show him
our nearly 100 year old barn,
and to view our new flock of sheep.
and explain some of my habits to you.
I wouldn’t even be telling you this
if it wasn’t that I had recently seen posts on Facebook
who had observed the same event
that I had experienced
on my journey to the barn that day.
I’m going to reveal my lifetime habit
of getting ready for bed at night.
Included in said habit,
would be the removing of my jeans and underwear
in one swift motion.
Unfortunately this has, on occasion,
caused a slight “public” embarrassment.
(How could that be? I said I would be
getting ready for bed “at night”.)
back to the fine gentleman
who had come to look at our flock.
when he turned around,
looked quickly back toward the driveway,
“Oh! You’ve dropped your hanky.”
Intuitively I knew what I was about to see.
The clump of white lying in the driveway
was instantly recognizable to me.
It was definitely not my hanky.
It was my underwear,
which had been clinging,
(with the help of static electricity from the dryer, )
to the inside of my jeans.
The undergarment had chosen that moment
to release itself from the fabric of my jeans,
and to embrace the ground
in the driveway.
turning around and taking a step
toward the object.
“No”, I said,
“I’ll get it”.
We were immediately in competition
to get to “the hanky”first .
I outran him by seconds,
scooped up ‘the hanky’
and shoved ‘it’
into my jacket pocket.
Bless his heart.
He seemed totally unaware ,
of the rapid beating of my heart,
from the run
to the area of the driveway
the experience would have been a lesson
forever etched in my mind.
I had opened my Hallmark Shop at nine a.m.
so my employees wouldn’t have to come in
A pleasant fellow was the first to stop by.
As he stood just inside the front door,
we visited for twenty minutes or so.
As he turned to leave, he said,
“You may want to check the leg of your slacks
near your ankle”.
With that, he went upon his way.
in full view
was a visible display of one of my nylons,
which was making its way
past the static electricity in my slacks
Can you imagine
what the nice fellow must have been thinking
as we stood there and talked?
He apparently had decided
he would tell me
just as he went out the door
without looking back
at the expression on my face.
I don’t know if men are prone to giggling.
But I’ll bet he was giggling
At this moment,
it’s important for me to tell you
I’ve never had either of these experiences again.
I really have changed my ways,
about some things.
My friends and family would tell you
I still have some changing to do.
my family saw fit
to give me a bottle of fabric softener
and a pair of nylons
with lace edged suspenders sewn on them.
is not to share with anyone
the embarrassing things
that happen to me.