Foxes and Trains

Isn't it funny how you hear a phrase or see some object and for the next several weeks every where you turn you read that phrase or someone says something about that object? It's like deja vu but not exactly. I have had two of those things happen recently.

First is this YouTube hit. Now, I'm not a YouTube watcher. I'm probably not on it but once every couple of months. But Andrea said I had to see this one called "What Does the Fox Say?" All I have to say is, I take my writing too seriously. If I could just write something as silly as that, someone would turn it into a song which would then go viral so I could make a fortune as a bestseller. Since then, I have seen a dead fox along side the road when I was out jogging. Andrea has re-writes of that song going on her computer every other day (such as "What Does the Farmer Say?" and some camp that used it to advertise their winter youth retreats). Even today, Tirzah (our part-time financial assistant) plops down at her desk and mutters, "What does the fox say?" Okay, I'm about done with foxes.

The second is trains. I like trains. One of these days, I'd love to take a long ride on one so I get to sleep on it. And I also hope to purchase a model one to run around my Christmas village someday. But a couple of weeks ago, I saw a children's picture book at the library called "Locomotives". The painting on the front was gorgeous, but I was in a rush so I didn't check it out. (I now have it waiting on hold at the library.) Funny how I would just start writing a book about the Underground Railroad, not that that actually used trains. (I just always relate it to that because the first time I learned what the underground railroad was, thanks to a secret room in our house in New Hampshire that had been used for that, I had a dream about a real train under the ground that slaves ran to to escape north.) Marc recently mentioned I should take a train to Indiana for the holidays instead of flying. And then I had the funniest memory yesterday when I was vacuuming my apartment. I moved my sole two dining chairs (that don't belong to a table) into my kitchen so I could vacuum. As I sat them in a line, I remembered all the times my siblings and I would set up the dining chairs in a line when Mom was cleaning, dragging in our dolls and blankets so we could go on a train adventure somewhere. Maybe I should have grabbed my panda bears and gone on an adventure for old time's sake... :)