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distinguished gentleman about 65 years of age. As he
approached, I could see he was obviously distraught.
He barked at me to stop honking my horn and
asked me “What on earth I was doing”?

I started spewing off about how I had just arrived
from California the day before, that I had driving
anxiety, was totally wiped out, and hoped he had a
vacancy for the night.
Funny thing was his place wasn’t a homestay after
all and my infernal honking had scared his swans and
caused them to do irreparable harm to his dahlias.

It was definitely a huge misunderstanding on my
part, but by some miracle my rainbow came through
and Mr. John Armstrong took pity on me and offered
me a room for the night.
So grateful to get off the road, I didn’t think twice
about accepting his invitation. The grounds were
magnificent, well-manicured and inviting. The house
itself seemed even larger than it appeared from the road
with what looked like a barn or workshop building
attached.

As we entered his beautiful manor, he led me
upstairs to my room. I was taken with the carvings and
ornate artwork everywhere. Suddenly I thought, “Oh
my God what was I doing?” Alone in this big house

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