A good yarn . . .



One must discover the yarn amidst the thorns.

Laurel and Hardy Routine

      These days it’s still light outside at 11pm, and it’s already light outside at 4am.  During the night the Chugiak moon has an orange cast and lies low on the horizon.  Yesterday I raked snow along with leaves off my perennial beds and uncovered shoots of Iris, Sweet William and Forget-Me-Nots.  They were pulsating-green.  It’s a particular color, seen only in spring.  Even the Robins are larger than I ever remember them.  Has Spring purposefully dallied?  Just to keep us waiting?  Just to ensure that we would love her all the more when she makes her grand entrance?  Spring has arrived in Chugiak – and she has my attention.

     Hats and all the hat-paraphernalia needed for the ABG show are ready to go.  I finished up last evening.  For outdoor shows I use a screen house.  It’s an old-fashioned Colman, 12 X 12, made from a rigid plastic-like material – not one of these modern ones made from light, pliable nylon.  It’s heavy and bulky and very difficult to stuff back into its tent-bag.  Apparently the last time I used it, I had left it out to dry, because it was not stuffed back into its bag.  Because it is so large I used the front lawn for the job.  First I spread it out on the ground and folded it neatly into a triangle.  Then I grabbed the rim of the bag with one and with the other began to stuff the narrow end of the triangle into the bag.  But the bag is too deep fort my arm to reach; so I had to stop and fold the rim of the bag back first.  That took awhile; my hands are not as strong as they used to be.  I knew the end of the tent had to go all the way to the bottom of the bag, but after a few stuffs it became too wide for me to shove in.  So I tried standing on one leg and using the other foot to step the tent into the bag.  That didn’t work; my balance isn’t so good these days and I nearly fell over. 

     Nothing was going right.  I felt inept – worse than inept – bumbling.  Performing a skit: Laurel and Hardy Stuff a Screen House Into Its Bag.   About this time it occurred to me that someone could be watching.  In early spring, before the trees are leafed out my neighbor and I can see each other.  A quick, sneaky glance assured me that no one was watching, so I pressed on.  The wrestling match lasted a full thirty minutes.  Neither of us could gain complete submission.  When we finished, a bolus of the tent still bulged outside the bag.  For my part, I remained unbroken. 

     This is what pisses me off.  I stay active, eat healthy; I even go to the gym several times a week for weight training – all so that I can do things like stuff a screen house back into its bag.  Even with all that, I am no longer able to stuff a screen house into its bag.  The old Colman may be stronger than I, but I am more cunning.  I could trash that sucker and get a newfangled light weight model.  Or I could just fold it up and store it in a big plastic tub instead of its own bag.  Or I could ask someone for help. Or I could stop doing hat shows in the forest.  I vote for using a tub to store the tent – at least until I can no longer manage to set it up and take it down – then maybe I’ll get a new one.  

     Am I the only Classic Hippy Chick in transition?  I’m still engaging in my hippy chick behavior . . .  but not with my old finesse.  Maybe some of you are still riding Harleys, but no longer strong enough to manage the maintenance yourselves.  Some of you may be master gardeners who nowadays hire someone for larger landscaping jobs.  Some are chefs who hand pesky jars and bottles to someone else to open.  We are in an interesting phase of life – continuing in our various hippy chick activities – while at the same time having to step it down a bit. 


     You know you are a Classic Hippy Chick when:  you need accommodations to remain cool. 





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