“You need to change your ways!”
I’ve heard that statement many times. 
Like the words to an old song, 
they keep going ’round in my mind. Perhaps I should call these particular memorable incidents,  “Nylons Security”.
One of my life changing events was in early spring, as I recall.
 A few years before,
my husband and I 
had decided to raise sheep…it happened like this…sort of..

One day, I suggested we should get a lamb.. 
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 and care for them.

That would be us.

I don’t remember the exact time frame
as events began to unfold, but
it wasn’t long after their arrival,
I casually suggested we should start 
a flock,
“we already have “Bo” and “Betsy” and the grandkids love them.”
We also had 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”, but
 he wasn’t what you’d call a breeder yet,
He would be, though, in a year or so
when he was no longer “a lamb.” (You get the idea.)
 The plan to become shepherds 
was quickly put into action.
We were proud and excited about our new endeavor.

 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.
One day a gentleman came to call
 who was interested in our lambing operation.
Of course, I was more than happy
 to show him
  our nearly 100 year old barn,
 where our new flock of sheep resided.
Now, this is the point where I veer away from the sheep situation
 and explain some of my personal habits to you.

 I wouldn’t even be telling you this
 if it wasn’t that I had recently seen posts on Facebook 
from women 
who had found themselves involved in the same situation
  I experienced
on my journey to the barn that day.
Without getting too personal,
 I’m going to reveal my lifetime habit
of getting ready for bed at night. 

Included in my 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 should explain.. since I would be
getting ready for bed “at night, at home.”)
How could that possibly affect my actions in the daytime? Hmm…
Back to the fine gentleman 
who had come to look at our flock.
We were walking toward the barn
 when he turned around, 
looked quickly back in the direction of the driveway, and said…
 “Oh! You’ve dropped your hanky.” 

Intuitively, as I turned, 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.
“I’ll get it”, he said,
 turning around and taking a step
 toward the object. 
“No”, I said, 
“I’ll get it”.  
We were immediately in competition
 to find out who would 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,
 which was not caused
 from the exertion of running
 to the area of the driveway
 in question.
You might think 
the experience would have been a lesson
 forever etched in my mind. It was definitely time to review and perhaps renew, my habits.
 However, that was not to be.

One quiet morning in summer 
I had personally opened my Hallmark Shop at nine a.m.
 so my employees wouldn’t have to come in
 until later.

 A pleasant fellow was the first to stop by.
 He stood just inside the front door,
where 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 shoe”.  

With that, he went upon his way.

Looking down at my shoe,
  in full view,
 was a visible display of one of my nylons, 
which was making its way
 past the static electricity in my slacks
 to heaven knows where.
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.
 He must have suspected the expression he would surely see on my face. 
I don’t know if men are prone to giggling. 
But I’ll bet this fellow was giggling as he made his way to the car.

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 habits;
 about certain things.

My friends and family would tell you that it is rare for me to change my mind, I still have some habit changing to do.

For Christmas that year, 
 my family gave
 me a bottle of fabric softener 
and a pair of nylons
with lace edged suspenders sewn on them.

One of the changes I have yet to make
 is not to share with anyone 
the embarrassing things 
that happen to me.

I need to change my ways!

Photographs By Mary Anne Tuck  (Memories & Observations)

By maryannetuck

The future is right ahead of me and new projects seem to beckon... Friends and memories of times past remain with me today. I love to share my stories along with comments and opinions (of course) of today's challenges. Photography is my hobby and opportunities to capture the scenes before me are mine for the taking. Born and raised in Michigan, the peaceful woods and wildlife trails have always attracted me. Graduating from high school in the early fifties, college was of no interest to me. I have learned one important fact about life; whover decided when a person becomes "old"...didn't know what they were talking about...My theory is; you're as old as you think you are....(I'm thinking about it..haven't decided yet.)

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: