I could never figure out riddles when I was little. Actually I still can’t. I have a cousin who loves riddles and was always testing the rest of us kids. My brain never liked to figure out things that were too strenuous so I didn’t typically go along with trying to figure out his latest riddle, but even when I tried I never got it right.
I recently came across some old riddles in Sidney Saylor Farr’s book My “Appalachia – A Memoir” and realized I had never shared any riddles on the Blind Pig. I’m planning on sharing a few in the coming months so if you have a favorite, please send it to me at blindpigandtheacorn@gmail.com.
I’ll share one of Farr’s with you today.
Crooked as a rainbow,
Teeth like a cat,
Guess all night and
You can’t guess that.
Tipper
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Round as a biscuit
Deep as a cup
All the Tennessee River
Wouldn’t fill it up.
Big at the bottom
Small at the top
A thing inside
Goes flippity-flop
A tea strainer and a butter churn
Same year, same day. How about the same month? A woman can have a baby in January, conceive in March and have another baby on the same day of the month before the end of the year.
It’s not a riddle but my uncle Wayne used to describe something odd shaped as being “big at the little and bottom at the top”.
Mrs. Lambert had two sons. Both we’re born on the same day, same year and Mrs Lambert was their natural mother. But they were not twins. How is this possible?
Tipper–I’m surprised no one has mentioned a traditional English riddle:
As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives.
Every wife had seven sacks.
Every cat had seven kits.
Kits, cats, sacks, wives.
How many were going to St. Ives.
The answer, of course, is one. The riddler was going to St. Ives, and he met all the polygamists with cats and kittens going in another direction.
Jim Casada
I would think a moon phase.
I’m sure I don’t know but first thing that hit my brain was a bear trap. Now how about that.
That’s a tough one because rainbows are not crooked. They are curved, an arc. They actually form a circle but rarely can you see the whole thing.
Ron I would think his ride (horse or mule) was named Sunday.
Yes, you are right.
That’s one cat that will scratch you good when you’re picking berries, but you’ll forget about the scratches when you’re eating them hot buttered biscuits smeared full of jam. Not too many wild blackberries in my neck of the woods any more, and the tame ones just don’t taste the same.
Oh so it’s a Briar patch….never would have guessed that without your post 🙂
You’re right. I can’t guess that. But here is another.
Preacher left on Sunday,
stayed gone a week.
Came back on the same Sunday.
How did he do that?
His horse was named Sunday? There is another one about a horse named Friday?
You’re right.