Just Plain Foolish

Just a chance for an old-fashioned, simple storyteller to say what needs to be said.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

One of the joys of foolishness

Is that you don't always have to be an adult. The other day in the grocery, I was singing along to the oldies playing over the loudspeaker, and ended up talking to one of the store employees who was doing the same thing. As we said goodbye to get back to our respective tasks, we observed that it was better not to be in too much of a hurry to be all grown up.

Well, today I can certainly say that while I may be somewhat grown up, all grown up is still a ways away. My toys came in. Yes, they did. I now have lanyard braiding disks that are very similar to the kumihimo disks from Japan, but smaller and made in the U.S. And I've already taught one kid to braid on one. Yay!

And my dolls came in. One for me and one to share. And the one for me is already in a different outfit - she's in a pink and purple plaid sari, and maybe tomorrow night, I'll get around to making her somewhat more constructed clothing. Sometimes, it's good to remember to be an adult. And sometimes, it's good to forget.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Laura C. said...

*laugh*

Reminds me of the time the Beloved and I were in the grocery store toy aisle and saw IIRC, some sort of whoopee cushion with an inflation device ... and we started a riff on the "In my day we didn't have any of those namby-pamby inflation devices" that lapsed into a variant of the Monty Python "Four Yorkshiremen" sketch ...

The slightly geeky looking chap shelving products across the aisle didn't join in, but the Beloved says he seemed rather amused by us. A kindred spirit?

I don't have a doll, but I do have a fluffy white teddy bear. We have been known to occasionally tuck the bear into the covers, particularly when one of us is leaving for work before the other has awakened.

7/13/2006 6:43 PM  
Blogger Thee, Hannah! said...

I have a doll and a fluffy white teddy bear.

My mother says that now that we're adults and have all the practical things we need--clothes irons, towels, dishes--she can give us toys for Christmas again. Go, Mom!

7/14/2006 8:39 PM  
Blogger Plain Foolish said...

I have a doll and a ratty old pooh bear - the one I asked for for Christmas when I was 2.

7/15/2006 9:53 PM  
Blogger Thee, Hannah! said...

I have my own white bear (well, used to be white) and the small tan bear my mother got for Christmas when she was five. And her purple-and-yellow genuine velveteen rabbit.

There were no kids my age in the neighborhood where we lived when I was little. These were my best friends.

7/16/2006 2:15 PM  
Blogger Plain Foolish said...

Pretty cool: today, my husband and I decided that we would head for the blast-o-freeze of the local movie theatre (hey, sometimes it's nice to experience a little cold in the middle of summer.) and as I stood in line, I was crocheting a tiny shawl in extra fine thread. The woman behind me was impressed by it (it was only plain double crochet with a 2.55 mm hook, but it comes out in a really neat herringbone pattern), so I got to show her and her daughter how I was doing it. She asked me what the piece was going to be, and I explained that I was making this one for a doll, and that it would go with a dress that I've been working on embroidering the neckline for.

What was especially neat was that the woman remarked that it looked very meditative and calming as I was doing it. That's one of the things I love about handwork, its ability to distract the analytic parts of the mind, so the quiet can come out to play. When I was reading someone else's blog (and I confess I can't remember whose), they were commenting on what one could or couldn't do during meeting, and were trying to argue that perhaps reading spiritually uplifting literature might be permissible, but handwork was definitely out. Now, I can understand no knitting - the sound of the needles is likely to distract a lot of people, but for me, a quiet bit of handwork is an excellent time to pray and listen.

7/16/2006 8:34 PM  

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