Miss Lucy had a baby, his name was Tiny Tim. She put him in the bathtub, to see if he could swim. He drank up all the water. He ate up all the soap. He tried to eat the bathtub, but it wouldn’t go down his throat.
Miss Lucy called the doctor. Miss Lucy called the nurse. Miss Lucy called the lady with the alligator purse. “Mumps” said the doctor. “Measles” said the nurse. “Hiccups” said the lady with the alligator purse. Out went the doctor. Out went the nurse. Out went the lady with the alligator purse.
As is more common than naught, once again the weekend’s garage sales have launched a search to find out the back story of some of the more unusual items that cross my path. For just a few years–roughly 1948 through 1951–alligator bags like these were very popular. Ugly/fascinating is the only way to describe them.
The previous weekend, a framed picture caught my eye. After taking the print out of the frame, research on the signature discovered on the back of the print resulted in the revelation that the photographer lived and worked in this area in the 1880’s. The holiday weekend stalled any additional progress, but the historical society will have someone in the office on Tuesday. Hopefully they already know something about his life and work that will fill in the blanks.
It’s all very interesting. Just like they told Mikey: “Try it, you’ll like it!”