There dwelt an old woman at Exeter;
When visitors came it sore vexed her,
So for fear they should eat,
She locked up all her meat,
This stingy old woman of Exeter.
Some days, I can relate to this lady and just want to be left alone. Now, when I invite visitors that’s a different story. And I can’t relate to the whole stingy aspect of this rhyme. If she was such a stingy crank, who was going to visit her anyway? The rhyme makes the visitors sound like an ongoing problem, but I imagine after the poor treatment her visitors received once, they wouldn’t exactly be clamoring to go back. Welp, good luck lady. Sounds like you are going to die alone and miserable. Continue reading →