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THE WEATHER HERE TODAY, I'm pleased to announce, was...(get this)...perfect! You heard me. It was what I'm wont to call frabjous, though I don't wish to wear out the word. (Hmm, wearing out the word would imply a superabundance of days like today and perhaps that is a clear case of wishful thinking.) At any rate, my flower beds languishing in their neglected and drabby condition seemed to be imploring me to take good advantage of the perfect pleasantness and rescue them with a little floral magic--the kind I planned to purchase at the nearest nursery.

First, however, there was an apartment to show to Nancy. She had called two days ago and left a message on the little white business phone, speaking with exceedingly soft and deliberate diction, reading the advertisement she'd seen in the newspaper with labored care. Great! I thought, is this the call I've been waiting for--the ideal tenant who will fulfill my every meticulous expectation? As I hadn't been able to reach her in spite of numerous attempts, I'd about given up on this catch. But today she called again and we arranged to meet mid-morning. In our conversation she mentioned a boyfriend, but this did not deter me in my fantasizing. I grabbed my application forms (my whole briefcase, really--it's got the bag of keys and anything else I could possibly need), dumped some food in Sassy's bowl and headed up the road.

In spite of the abundance of buggies I had to dodge on the road as I hurried to meet the prospective tenant, I managed to arrive ahead of her. She pulled in moments later and stepped from the car. "Hello, I'm Nancy," she said, and her handshake was as listless and meek as her words. This bodes well, I thought. At least there'll be no loud and raucous parties. Everything seemed to impress me favorably about Nancy. A good job? check. A calm demeanor? check. Knowledgeable enough to ask the proper questions? check. Leaving her current rental situation for acceptable reasons? check. And her boyfriend, though he wasn't there, sounded as though he'd fit the bill as well. Alright, then! She asked about an application. And could her boyfriend come for a look? Oh, yes, I assured, eager to be done with this task of renting number seventeen, my only two-bedroom. "There's just one more thing--" Nancy spoke in a hesitating manner...

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On my way back home, I gave myself a good talking-to: After all these years, when are you going to learn?! You know you'll keep wasting your time if you don't ask all the proper questions before you go running willy-nilly to show the place to every Tom, Dick or Nancy who calls. There's no excuse. You've got to know by now that just because the ad says "No Pets," it does not mean a feline-lover with three cats will not show up!

So then, partly in consolation, I set out immediately for the greenhouse to buy my flowers. Once again I wondered at the buggies everywhere. Burkholder's is the closest place to get my garden plants and as I approached the place I was surprised to see the parking lot was empty. What? The place is closed? You'd think they'd be doing a bang-up business today. But sure enough, the sign said: CLOSED.


I wracked my brain: where to go now? Okay, there's that place a few miles from here; I'll have to go there. But, ten minutes later--deja vu! Here the parking lot was empty, too, and this sign too read: CLOSED.


But wait, there was another sign, explanatory:

Ah, ha! It is Ascension Day, my friends--a religious holiday for all the plain people, Amish included. Many of these local nurseries are run by members of plain sects. So that explains the buggies, too! On Ascension Day they all go to visit friends (I was told by someone in the know, Reader Dear). But how, I wonder, do they know who's staying home, and who will come for a visit?
Mercy me, I sighed, I've got to think of yet another place to go. Let's see, what are my choices? Once again, I set out for another destination.

But did I pause and think? Did I stop to reason? Did I ask myself: "Who owns the place?"


I have learnt a double lesson for the day, Dear Reader: I would do well to exercise more forethought before dashing to and fro. It would behoove me to ask questions of myself: Have I asked questions?! --including this: Have I asked ALL the proper questions?!

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