Okay, I got tagged again. This time by Kell, sister of Jay, daughter of Betty. Kell is a delightful gal living in the wilds of Omaha.
I am to reveal six things about me that I believe to be weird. There isn't that much that is odd about me. . . . I am just about as normal as they come . . . but let's think a minute.
1. I must have had my squeamish gland removed when I was little. I can stand all sorts of uncooked foods, blood, goo, gunk, mouldy things etc. . . . I also have no squeamish feelings when it comes to snakes and mice. I was that rotten kid who used to catch them and chase all the other kids around while holding onto one or more snakes by the head. I used to grab mice out of the feed bin when we lived on our small "ranch" in North Dakota but they bit so I stopped doing that pretty quickly.
2. I can't stand stairs that are "see-through" or have no riser between the steps. This includes most metal stairs. Actually, I don't like stairs much at all. I must have fallen down them as a tot. If I have to walk down stairs, I clutch the handrail quite firmly. Ladders, fine - stairs - nope.
3. I have a fantastic internal compass and spookily accurate sense of direction. I'll get us back out of the maze that is a North African medina (covered market) in no time. I only ever have to be a place once to remember how to get there forever more. However, if you say, "take a left" and I don't have time to think about it, there is every chance that I'll turn right instead. I still get left and right mixed up. Visiting South Africa and being in the Southern Hemisphere completely wrong-footed me. Had I been there a bit longer, I would have figured it out, but for two weeks, I hated not knowing instinctively north from south.
4. I'm not claustrophobic but I can't stand anything tight around my neck. Not anything.
5. Being startled and loud noises can make me cry.
6. um . . . .I'm struggling here . . . . . I've just remembered something! I have a thing about how clothes are folded and how they are pegged out on the clothes line. I can't bear them to be done other than how I fold or peg out. If The Man of the Place hangs the clothes out on the line, I will go out and re-hang them on the washing line. I will also re-fold the clothes that he has folded, but only mine. His mis-folded clothes can stay that way. It is only ME that has the problem with the way he does these things. I also have to have all the towels folded in equal thirds (a hangover from my Navy days).
I now tag:
You're under no obligation here - but it would be great to see what you've got hidden
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