Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Sunday, April 18, 2010

I crochet

My friend TW tells a story about one of the deep thinkers (was it Aldous Huxley) who was giving a lecture on some profound and esoteric subject and noticed a lady in the front row who was obviously fascinated and agreeing with every word. She just didn't look like the usual far-out, free-thinking type and he began bringing out some of his more extreme thoughts to see how she would respond. She grew even more enthusiastic. At the end of the lecture, she came up to him and said, "You have expressed just what I have thought but not been able to put into words. That was so confirming!"

More than a little surprised he asked, "How did you develop these ideas, ma'am? Do you practice yoga or do transcendental meditation or some other meditative practice?"

Leaning close, she confided to him, "I crochet."

I'm getting a LOT of good out of this skein of hand-paint yarn.


At first I was rather worried because I don't know just how big a baby's head is. Then I realized that babies come in all sizes. Some malnourished preemies are about the size of a cat. I really can't go wrong here.

Yesterday was running errands day. Groceries, then taking a trailer-load of yard debris to the compost place. They do a good business, collecting your yard debris for a fee, then, in the spring, selling it back as healthy compost. We got there before the lines started forming. (DH is a genius at backing a trailer!) WE had hired a guy to clean the front yard, and he evidently didn't know how to load a trailer. All the light stuff was on the bottom of the load, then all the heavy stuff on top of it, and even worse, all the weight at the front of the trailer. I had to stand on the back and hang my fundament waaaayyy back to counterbalance enough for DH to lift the tongue and get it fastened to the hitch.

So when we got there and started unloading, there was dirt sifting down through rose canes and wet leaves. It took us a good fourty five minutes to excavate because we had to rake out dirt, then pull out rose canes, then rake out more dirt to find more rose canes . . . I wouldn't have thought of it, but yes, compact stuff on the bottom, fluffy stuff that you can grab and pitch on top.

We were working next to a guy even older than we are. He had a bigger trailer and worked slowly, but persistently. He was so pale and frail I worried for him, but there's that whole male ego code to consider when doing manual labor. As he and I passed at one point, he said, "Have you ever been anyplace that smelled as bad as this?"
"Oh, yeah!" I replied. "Pig feed-lots, paper mills, post-party fraternity houses. This is just cellulose breaking down. Not all that bad." And I gave him a big smile. He laughed, and we got back to work.

Wonder if strong young people could go down to places like that with their own rakes and brooms, and for a fee, empty trucks and trailers for aged and infirm gardners? If I had been alone, a couple of high-school gorillas could have made ten bucks apiece for twenty minutes work, and I would have been happy to pay them.

There used to be an annual fund-raiser for a local private high-school, that accumulated astounding donations and had a rummage sale that blew all other rummage sales out of the water. Alumni would donate used sports equipment, designer clothing and accessories, kitchen equipment never used even once (bread machines galore) knick knacks and kitch and what have you. These are people who redecorate a room in their home every year whether they need to or not. Furniture that has been sat on maybe twelve times. Untrodden carpets. Left-over building supplies, a high-tech toilet bought for the beach house, then not installed because the cesspool couldn't handle it.

ANYway, The point that I am babbling about is that this sale is huge, and someone got the idea of bringing a kid's utility wagon to carry boodle. Several enterprising youngsters the next year brought their wagons and hired themselves out as sherpas. They did box-office business, earning great wages and huge tips! I'm thinking that there are business opportunities all over for people who don't mind working hard.

7 Comments:

  • At 7:46 AM , Blogger Heide said...

    There are still some youthful types about willing to work hard, but not as many as one would hope. The young wagon-toting entrepeneurs have the right idea.

     
  • At 8:07 AM , Blogger Willow said...

    My son in law (who is a very hard worker) mentioned recently that he had read a book for young people. The author stated that he would never allow his daughters to date or marry a man who 'wouldn't work hard'. Good dad! (not that you can prevent it if said daughters are hell bent to marry the lazy guys, but I love the sentiment.)

     
  • At 8:22 AM , Anonymous Benita said...

    So, THOSE are the teenagers you were talking about! Great idea! Now to find some local ones. I still have tons of pruning, sawing and triming to do.

    I had a mental image of your fundament hanging waaaay out on the back of the trailer. Man, what I would have given to be there with a sling shot. :)

     
  • At 8:45 PM , Blogger Rainy Daisy said...

    How fascinating! I love Aldous Huxley, but I hadn't heard that story.

    I would be willing to bet that there are plenty of people willing to help shovel composty-goodness, but I don't think many of them would be high schoolers. They tend to dream of big, wonderful and ultimately implausible things at that age. I dunno if I would use the word "entitled," but it may not be far off. That doesn't mean all of them, of course.

    What a sweet skein of yarn you used for the hat. And if a rummage sale like that ever happens again, I WILL raid it! :)

     
  • At 4:17 AM , Blogger KnitTech said...

    Sounds like a good work out.

     
  • At 2:37 PM , Blogger Lucia said...

    Actually a hefty newborn and a small-to-average cat both weigh about 9 pounds, but a normal human newborn's head is bigger than a full-grown cat's. A human newborn doesn't have those pointy ears sticking up, though.

     
  • At 9:07 PM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    You know what? I actually know teenaged gorillas who would by polite and helpful doing that. Too bed I can't ship them to you.

     

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