As I was going…

As I was going to Virginny, I met a Mat who was quite skinny.
Upon each hand, he wore a mitt.
Upon each mitt, a mot* was writ.
Within each mot, there was a mutt.
Inside each mitt, a hand was put.
Met. Mat. Mitt-mot-mutt.
This may mean something; I know not what.

*My new word for the day — MOT (pronounced ˈmō ). It’s short for “Bon Mot” or a pithy saying.

Here’s a mot with a mutt in it:

A mutt is couture-it’s the only one like it in the world, made especially for you.

Isaac Mizrahi

I’m a little punchy after a long day of driving yesterday. I worked 5am – 11 am, then left my house a little after noon to drive to youngest-daughter’s college where I was meeting up with oldest-daughter who was driving with me to visit middle-daughter. Got that?

I think the sun was out when I left home. After collecting daughter #1, we drove off in the snow. “Winter Advisory” signs flashed at us all along I-81.

And I had opted to drive first. Ugh.

It was slushy sloppy slippery slow driving for about 4 hours. Shortly after she took over driving, the weather and the road cleared.

I dozed.

A lot.

We didn’t meet a single Mat, skinny or otherwise. (Side note: I really do know a Mat with one “t”) No mitts, no mots, no mutts. But that was the prompt given for Stream of Consciousness Saturday: mat/met/mitt/mot/mutt.

All I could think about was going to St. Ives.

For those of you not familiar with the St. Ives riddle, here it is: