Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.
Ready for a history lesson? I thought I would impart upon you the knowledge I gained whilst trying to remember this silly nursery rhyme lodged in my head after my morning epiphany (more on that to come).
Mary is believed to be Mary Tudor, Queen Mary, aka Bloody Mary, and her ardent Catholic beliefs were "quite contrary" to her father's Protestant beliefs. The last three lines have several interpretations, my favorite being the gardens are Mary's graveyards full of Protestant believers, silver bells and cockle shells are to torture devices, and pretty maids are the rows of Maidens, commonly known now as the guillotine.
Morbid yet fascinating.
Completely loathed history class in school, yet I find myself always enamored with history I stumble upon myself. I verified with several sites the possible origins of the nursery rhymes and found The Wizzley proved the most evocative source.
Mini history lesson adjourned, back to my epiphany.
Don't you just love epiphany moments? The stark realization as it crowns in your mind, painting a flawless picture of a situation. Especially those comprised of new-found awareness requiring an apology. Or several apologies. Specifically to your significant other whom you have been quite displeased at the last 24 hours for being contrary to everything you say.
The last 24-hour period has been riddled with moments of me bewildered by my husband's need to be contrary to every point I've made or statement I've uttered. It's as though he decided to be contradictory for the sake of being antagonistic! Eesh, he has been so dang annoying and I find myself bedeviled as a hedgehog.
Until this morning that is, as I realized it was not my husband being contrary. Oh no, it was I. Drats! In my state of hedgehog discomfort I have been layering our simple conversations with my angsty need to poke at something.
Poke poke poke. Poke poke poke.
Luckily, my husband seems to have learned that poking back is not the best method. In fact, he is out for coffee with his best friend, leaving my alone to realize that without him to poke at I'm poking at myself. Ergo, major epiphany moment.
Now to swallow pride, tuck tail, and attempt to apologize when he gets home.
Keep the angry hedgehog in the cage woman!
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