Boppy and I are on vacation.  We are currently in Morgantown, West Virginia.  For the next 17 days we will be traveling all over New England.  Today we went to the Kentucky Horse Park.  This is a working horse farm.  It has a museum, lots of exhibits, and it is the burial site of Man O’War (I think that’s what I read).  While we were there we saw an exhibit on Arabians.  I created my own Arabian and followed her throughout the museum.  Her name was Dalia.  I will readily admit that this exhibit was for elementary students but I could give a rat’s.

Now normally I don’t notice the people around me, but there was a very Northern lady behind me, and apparently she had never heard of horses before.  All through the exhibit she announced in very loud, nasal tones…”Oh my God!  I didn’t know that!” By the end of the exhibit I truly believed that the sum total of all that she knew could be etched on the head of a straight pin.  Even walking away I could hear that voice.  It was like nails on a chalkboard.  I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t going to attend the same exhibit we were headed to.  My loving, but apparently oblivious, husband looks at me and says, “what?”  “I’m making sure that stupid Yankee isn’t following us.”  “What are you talking about?” “You didn’t notice the fingernails on the chalkboard voice that was echoing through the Halls of Horses exhibit?”  “No.” 

I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out how our relationship has lasted so long.