Ooooooooo-ooooohhhhhhhhh I just have to tell you that my little Tubby Hubby darlin’ Wayne and I went for a drive the other day. I just had to get out of the house for a while. I sat and looked at the laundry basket, the dishes, the vacuum cleaner, and at Wayne who was having one of his naughty gleam-in-his-beady-little-eyes thoughts. I said, “Grab the keys to the CADDY and let’s go.”

He said, “Where?”

I said, “I don’t care; let’s just go; I’m havin’ a flash.”

He said, “Better put on some clothes first.”

We took off, after getting dressed of course, and headed South East on Highway 33 toward Ohio. It’s such a lovely drive this time of year in spite of looking at the flooded fields from all the rain. The Ohio line is only about 30 miles away. We stopped in Decatur, Indiana and shopped at the Salvation Army store beside the Scott/Kroger store and then went around the corner and down the block and did some shopping at the little St. Vincent De Paul store.

You can get some pretty good bargains there. Wayne got a brand new pair of summer sandals for only $4 and I picked up some bras and half-slips that still had the brand-new store tags on them. We got a couple of cassette tapes (we’re old fashioned and don’t have one of them new disk players in the CADDY yet. They were songs by Wayne’s favorite girl singer Julie London (Girl? I think she’s really older than both of us put together), and Harry Connick Jr. I think he’s so cute; I just want to hug him and comb that unruly tosseled front hair back and hold him so tight that he . . .  uh, er, gasps for breath and becomes putty in my hands.

Goodness I just have to stop day-hopping in my mind like I do – I had to roll all the windows down in the CADDY after we got on the road. I was too shaken up to drive but I cooled down eventually. We drove on to New Hampshire…Ohio that is. It’s about 100 miles from Fort Wayne and there really isn’t much there to attract you to go there in the first place but there is one building just off the beaten path by about the length of a football field or two called Gray’s Orange Barn. It is a barn but it isn’t gray. It’s a farmer’s market, sort of. They sell all kinds of cheeses, and Amish pepper bacon, and jerky, and salami, and trail baloney, and pepperoni, and Ohio Maple Syrup, and well, all kinds of goodies. They even have ear candles if you know what those are. We spent almost a whole Social Security check there on goodies and of course some of them will become gifts for our close friends.

Wayne wanted to mess around in the vegetables but I held him off long enough to get our bill paid and get him back in the car. Ladies, if you want to cool a steaming thrill seeking husband, just hand him the car keys and call him Dale Junior. Works for me, most of the time.

On the way to New Hampshire, Ohio that is, we went though a little town called Wapakoneta where Neil Armstrong is from, and they have a nice space museum you can go though. It was near closing time so we’ll go back at another time only earlier in the day. I want to see that. We settled for having dinner at the Waffle Hut just down the road and talk about stuffing my girdle, well I did just that. You just have to go there and try their food sometime. It would make a nice Sunday drive but don’t plan on shopping at Salvation Army or St. Vincent’s since they are closed on Sundays. And it will keep your tubby hubby’s hands busy and you can set back and enjoy the ride without the worry of being bed ridden until you get home.

Till next time,


“Wayne, keep both your hands on the wheel and off my leg. Hurry; let’s get home; we have some, uh, laundry to do.”

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Mrs. Waynedale

The adventures and reviews of Mrs. Waynedale are written by a mystery author in the Waynedale area. You have to love her, eccentric, truthful, and quaint as she is. She is a champion for Seniors. > Read Full Biography > More Articles Written By This Writer