Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Secret and Strange Stuff
Is anyone else fascinated with secrets? Strange things? Hard to comprehend-things?
I remember as a child I wanted so badly to find a tiny Tom Thumb. Can anyone remember that story (no comment, brudder! You're almost as old as me!). I loved it and thought finding a little fellow like that would be wonderful! And fairies. Did anyone believe in them?
Okay, okay. I know I'm fanciful. Hubby has more than once told me to get my head out of a story-book world. (Drab real life!) Other countries believe in tiny people. Scotland, Germany, Ireland, etc. And who's to say God didn't make something else besides what we know as normal human beings. I mean, they say (the proverbial "they say") there are still creatures that we don't know about under water and in some countries. So. . .couldn't there be?
If you read last Friday's post, you know already that stars fascinate me. Huge and glittery and wonderously far away creations.
I like mysteries (not that I'm that good at solving them, although I should be since I like to write them.) in books, like to figure out who did what. Sometimes when hubby and I listen to a good mystery on tape, we go back and forth trying to figure it out. Fun.
I like hidey holes. Meaning, places that are secret and beautiful. Hidden garden spots, forest sun-dappled areas, and my deck with it's open top with the trees hanging over. I use to love sitting in a tree and watching the branches sway. Still do, for that matter--watching the swaying treetops, not the climbing part. Grin.
Certain puzzles (not the undefeatable kind--I'm not that patient!), keeping secrets with hubby, planning a pleasant surprise for someone special.
I like parts of history because it's strange and different from what we know. I like thinking about what it would have been like. In sixth grade teacher assigned us the task of writing a diary for one week as if we lived in the caveman's day. I loved that. That is where I date my first desire for writing.
I don't like wearing an outfit when someone else has the same one. (except I remember in high school, the rage was a sweatshirt with your name lettered across the front. I finally got one--just about the time they started going out of style! Never let Mom forget it! Pout!) So that is strange, isn't it?
And for years I plucked daisy petals to see if the current love was in love with me. (Which fortunately--or unfortunately, depending on what age you're coming from!--seldom proved anything.) I wished fervently every night on the first star in the dark sky, refused to allow my eyes to wander in case there would be more out and ruin my wish.
Foolish stuff. Yep! But then, I'm kinda strange.
Since I'm talking about strange things today, here's a strange hint for you. Laugh!
When you visit restrooms (eating establishments, hotel rooms, etc.) how do you know for sure that the seemingly ordinary mirror hanging on the wall is a real mirror?
Here's how: Place the tip of your fingernail against the reflective surface and if there is a gap between your fingernail and the image of the nail, then it is a genuine mirror. IF your fingernail touches the image of your nail, then beware! You know for sure it's a two-way mirror.
Now you can start worrying. Don't go phobic on me--touching mirrors everywhere you go!
Still round the corner there may wait, a new road, or a secret gate. --J.R.R. Tolkien
I wish for you a strange blessing today. Something out-of-the-ordinary and something very special!