Wednesday, August 12, 2020

A Knitting Day

 It was hot today and I didn't need to go anywhere (not that I need to go anywhere much these days) so I sat on the couch and knitted.  First I finished August Preemie Hat #5.  For the first time I'm not sure I like the way the yarn and the pattern turned out together.  Maybe because I always think of dark yarns as winter yarns?  Anyway, it's done and it'll look good on some baby.


Then I decided to cast on a cast sock, you know, to keep the toes warm of a person in a cast.  I got some from a friend when I broke my ankle a few years ago and they really helped keep me comfortable, plus they looked good.  I'll get it finished tomorrow and then will have to find something else to knit.  I can do it.



The orange bug (box elder bug?) was on the orange butterfly weed today.  Speaking of butterflies, there was one flitting around the yard today and I got the camera ready but the darned thing never rested anywhere long enough for me to take its picture.


And the Stella d'Oro lilies keep blooming.


I had high hopes that the butterfly would land on the zinnias today but it didn't so I took a picture anyway.


I picked two more almost ripe tomatoes today and ate the second ear of corn.  Man, that's good corn, sweet and flavorful.

12 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

The man sat unmoving, his hands were clenched in fists, and his face and neck were blotchy red.  She could tell by the tension in everyone’s body as they stared in his direction that he was the cause of the sound she had heard.  There was no doubt in Fay’s mind where her next move should be.  She took off at a fast walk to the Ladies’.  She slowly pushed the door open.

“Honey?” 

There was no answer.  She entered the brightly lit tiled space and stooped to see if the woman was in a stall.  She saw a pair of shoes in the far stall next to the end wall and heard a faint sniff and rustle of cloth. 

“Honey, are you okay?” 

“I am fine,” came the muffled answer.  “Leave me alone.” 

Fay turned and took one step back toward the door and then stopped.  She turned around again.  “No, I will not leave you alone.” 

There was a pause, then the woman in the stall said, “Why not?” 

Fay took another step closer.  “Because I think too many people have left you alone for too long and it is time someone did something about it.  Looks like I am that someone.” 

The next word from the stall came out as a wail.  “Why?”  

Fay leaned on the cool tile wall and folded her arms across her chest and tried to answer her.  “I guess because today I am on a roll.  I convinced my boss here to give a friend of mine a tryout; she needs a job and he needs help, but he was too stubborn to consider a woman in her situation.  It was hard to convince her to come in too.” 

Fay kept talking to give the woman in the stall time to collect herself.  “Naomi, that is my friend’s name, has spent so many years down on herself.  She got herself pregnant in high school and her mama disowned her, then the father of her son ran off, so she has been on welfare for fourteen years.  She tried to get jobs, but she wanted to be home to make sure her son did not get into trouble or join a gang but could never find the right job.  Well, that is her story in a nutshell.” 

Fay straightened up and put her hand on the locked stall door.  “Naomi came into the diner this morning and it looks like she totally blew him away; those were her biscuits you smelled.  It looks like she has a job and I am the one who came up with the idea in the first place.  So, I am on a roll.”  She rapped softly on the locked metal door.  “Come on out of there and let me see what I can do to help you.” 

“Nobody can help me.”  But the door latch clicked open and the woman came out to cringe against the wall, her hand using a wad of toilet paper to dab away the trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.  Her left cheek was all red and swollen; her eyes were swollen from crying. 

“What is your name, honey?” Fay said. 

“Honey,” the woman said, almost smiling. 

“No.  Really?” 

“Yes, really, my pop said I was as sweet as honey when I was born so that is what they named me.”  This time she did smile, but then winced at the pain in her cheek. 

“Just a minute,” Fay said, and she went to the door and hollered to someone to hand her an ice pack.  She waited, using her body to block the door in case Honey’s husband tried to come in.  Elmer walked to the door with a plastic bucket of ice and a couple of towels. 

“Is everything okay in there?” 

“Getting there,” she said.  “How about out there?” 

Elmer had a bemused smile on his face.  “Oh, it is interesting out here too.  You take care of that lady in there.  We are fine out here.” 

“Thanks.”  Fay set the bucket of ice on the counter, scooped a handful into the center of one of the towels, folded it into a nice package, and handed it to Honey.  “Here, this should help with the swelling and a bit of the pain.” 

Honey tossed her wad of toilet paper into the trash and eased the ice pack onto her cheek.  “Thanks a lot.  It has been a long time since someone took care of me.”  Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice got tight.

Fay perched one skinny butt cheek on the edge of the counter and leaned back against the towel dispenser.  “So, Honey, how did you get hooked up with Lothar out there?” 

Honey adjusted the ice pack and said, “We met in college; Ham was captain of the football team and I was head cheerleader.” 

“Natch.” 

“He was wonderful, not a groper like the rest of the boys I dated.  He held doors for me and chairs too.  He walked on the curb side of sidewalks so I would not get splashed on rainy days.  He was everything Mama told me to look for in a man.” 

Fay shook her head.  “Of course, he was.  All of them are like that when they are trying to get into your pants.  It is only after they get what they want that they turn back into horses…well, you know.” 

Honey laughed a bit at that.  “Yeah, I do know.  It was exactly like that.  As soon as we were pinned, he started, well, squeezing a bit too hard when we petted.  And he would roughly grab my hand and put it you know where, even if I did not feel like putting it there.”  She shook her head at the memory.  “I have to confess, I kind of liked his roughness.  I mean I come from a very genteel family.  Papa was always courtly and polite to Mama and her friends.  He wore a tie at dinner.  Of course, Mama was a lady and kept a lady’s house.  We had linens on the table at dinner, cloth napkins, and real silver flatware.”  Her gaze was far away, as if she were back in her parents’ dining room.  “They had dinner parties, lots of dinner parties.  Mama wore frilly aprons, and no one would ever suspect that she had worked her tail off the whole day.  Every hair was in place, everything was perfect.  And they had poetry readings and music nights.  It was lovely.” 

Fay listened with amazement.  She had read about such lives in novels but never thought anyone actually lived that way.  “Tell me about you and Ham,” she said. 


Today's toss was a coffee maker for Goodwill and a basket of baby food jars that I threw in the recycling.  I looked it up and baby food jars and canning jars are recyclable which is good because I have a lot of jars I won't use again.

One good thing about not much rain is the grass isn't growing so I don't have to mow but the bad thing is that I have to keep watering my baby bushes and baby tree.  You just can't win.

--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

Today's preemie hat is for a wintertime baby boy. To me those are "guy" colors. Even the bugs look pretty on your flowers. And I'm sure you'll manage a butterfly soon. We're getting all your rain. Real toad stranglers nearly every afternoon.