One in Ten

Julia, I was rereading about the Tracy Aviary Owl Forest in Utah and was thinking, if you want to drive 1400 miles I'll drive 900 and meet you there next Spring. Do you feel up for a drive across America? A favorite pastime of Taylor's. Oh the places we have been and the things we have seen.

Connor was a busy delight Wednesday on our playdate.

I had set up an activity where he could make little Easter baskets for everyone. He very carefully doled out the green grass, he very carefully gave each basket a portion of candy, he very carefully learned to curl ribbon to tie on each Easter basket. Then I gave him pinking shears to cut the name tags. He was enchanted with the pinked edge, telling me how pretty the edge was -- for about 60 seconds -- when his laser vision focused on the center screw holding the two halves together. He studied the screw, he manipulated the scissors back and forth, he adjusted them to different angles to examine them closer. The Easter baskets, the grass, the candy, the pretty pinked edge, the tags were all forgotten, he was lost to the mechanics of the scissors. With awe in his voice he said, "Granny, look at this gear."

There is always a right tool for the job, I just don't always know what that tool is. Pinking shears? Masking tape? Paperclips? I guess paperclips will become obsolete someday along with cursive writing and paper pages. New thinking, new technology, new solutions, new tools. All going forward to a future I can't even imagine.

Did ja see the post on Facebook about the glow-in-the-dark highway markings, did ja? Blue Highways I call them because of a book I read years ago by that name. (A good book by the way.) I don't suppose I will live to see that a reality, but it sure is a neat idea. A terrific idea. A futuristic idea. Blue highways, what next? Hover craft? I fervently hope so.

I was on Facebook the other morning commenting back and forth with four or five others at the same time. That was fun. From Jason in England to Verla in Oklahoma to Lynn in Seattle and one or two others. That was real time fun and something I couldn't have imagined when Bob brought home one of the first car phones. Remember those boxes of intrigue?

There is so freaking much I don't know. It is humbling to stop and think about my ignorance. I don't know house construction, road construction, refining oil, how to stop smoking, chicken health, electrical gizmos, bumper cars, serious cooking, magic, Chinese history, natural dyes, gem stones, or what a Rabbi does.

People tend to treat me a little politely as they back away or a little kindly as if they feel sorry for me by making allowances for my age, craziness or stupidity. It is odd that if they don't get my reference I'm the one who is stupid. Mention "Blue Highways" to someone and see what kind of reaction you get. Or Barbara McClintock, there's a puzzler.

People have a hard time fessing up to their own ignorance. I call that brain lockdown. Nothing in and nothing out. After all they know the answer, have the solution, have made all the right decisions, choices. They are so busy living life correctly that they can't open themselves to new endless possibilities and solutions.

The only thing Connor liked as much as the "gear" in the scissors was washing dishes. After making the Easter baskets we made Bird Nest cookies, that was okay, but what he really liked was pouring soap into the chocolaty pans and washing them over and over and over. I think he used about a cup of soap.

As the evening wound down he finally turned his attention to his regular play shelves. I had squirreled a few different items on them for him to discover and he said, "Thank you granny for the new stuff, especially the key chain and pen." And right before his daddy hauled him out the door he found the Altoid tin with six mini cars inside, cars that probably belonged to Roger at some point. Woe is Connor when he discovers cars and can't play, so he gave me firm instructions to put them inside the plastic Easter eggs and hide them for when he comes back. So hid they will be.

Connor noticed my new purse, slammed the back door so many times I told him if he slammed it again I was going to dress him up in girl's clothes. Even with all the Easter candy to choose from the treat Connor wanted was the red Tootsie Roll Pop that I had snagged at the pizza parlor to put on his play shelves. Will Tootsie Roll Pops ever go out of favor? Like I said, I can't even imagine the future.

I've wanted to clear out and organize my condo ever since, well, ever since I moved in. Clearing out and organizing has been hard, no, impossible for me to do. Then one day I thought to myself, said to myself, if clearing out and organizing is hard don't do it, just throw something away. And myself listened for once. I told myself to throw something away every day and I did. I threw something away, and then something else and pretty soon I was like a shark on a feeding frenzy.

All those damn articles, books, suggestions, helpful hints I read -- for years -- were a piece of crap. I moved one stone and started an avalanche. Now I can make room for flowers, make my condo easy to dust, make room for creativity. This works. New solution to a burdensome problem.

Lynn and I had a pedicure the other day after our ferry ride, after our breakfast at The Oak Table in Kingston, and the sweet lady asked, "Relaxing, no?" I yeah yeahed her -- but I lied. I don't find pedicures relaxing, they make me antsy, nervous, claustrophobic, not relaxing. That is why I only have one every two or three months. Not relaxing, but better than me trying to contort myself down to my feet for a DIYer.

After a deep scientific study I concluded that one person in ten is an asshole; in line, on the phone, at intersections. I studied and thought about this deeply for 15 to 20 minutes. One person in ten is an asshole and sometimes that asshole is me.

Bless someone today by asking them for a favor.
And happy, happy Easter, may your Easter have a pretty edge also.