Ish Kabibble

Ish Kabibble

Small town service stations are a dime a dozen, but we have one here in town that should win an award for Best Small Gas Station. When I went in a few days ago with a frazzled look and in desperate need of some assistance, the amazing owner took pity on me, sent me home with a bottle of wine and assured me they would take care of the truck the following day. 

The next day when I returned, I brought Bill the owner a hat that I'd knitted up. He was thrilled and put in on immediately. He lives down the road and has commented on how the sheep seem to do nothing but eat and sleep, so I was happy to share some of their 'productivity' with him. It was also the least I could do for him.

An old salt who is creeping up on ninety sat there and laughed when Bill donned the hat, saying that he looked like Ish Kabibble. This, of course, commenced a lengthy discussion about who old Ish Kabibble was and why the old salt was reminded of him by Bill in the hat. One thing led to another, and I ended up giving another hat to the older gentleman before he left. Bill and I laughed and repeated the name over and over, finding some silly amusement in the sound of it.

It was one of those classic afternoons that made me chuckle to myself for the rest of the day. And, like a song that gets stuck in your head for days and days, I have found myself saying the word Ish Kabibble in my mind and smiling at the sound -and memory - of it.