THIS 'N' THAT

Some days there is not a whole lot running through my mind when I sit down to do my blog. That is what’s happening today, so I’ll make a few observations about this and that, past and present, then and now.

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I actually felt sorry for former Prez Bush this morning. NBC ran a short story showing President Obama talking to the Iraqi powers that be. He was being his charming and disarming self and looking very conciliatory and Presidential. The film clip quickly changed to show the puzzled look on Prez Bush’s face as the infamous Iraqi shoe came at him from out of nowhere – and I actually had a twinge of compassion for poor Bush. However, after the last eight years, a twinge is about as much as I could work up.

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My daughter invited me to, and paid for, a one-afternoon beading class this past week. As I have stated elsewhere, I am not an artist but am a passable craftsperson, so I figured if I could do counted cross-stitch at 28 stitches to the inch (well, not anymore, but I used to be able to see that well!) then I probably could do some beading. I have a couple of bead bracelets that I like a lot, so I figured why not? The class was held at the home of a mother of one of my daughter’s co-workers. When I walked in with my daughter and was introduced to the mother, I should have known right off that this was not the place I should be. The mother was not much older than my oldest granddaughter. I could see that at least socially, I was going to be way out of my element. Then the beads were passed out for a ring we were going to make – and what I saw was a collection of beads the size of poppy seeds, the kind of poppy seeds that are on top of rolls. The long beading needle was half the diameter of a straight pin. I won’t even tell you what the holes in the beads looked like, because I couldn’t see them. I won’t go into detail, but I will tell you that the big light/magnifying glass the instructor hauled out of her car and set in front of me didn’t much help. I chased poppy seeds around on the felt laid in front of me to keep the beads from rolling everywhere, hoping the needle would find an available hole. I was a total failure. But all was not lost. My sweet daughter Erin came to see me on Sunday morning and made the ring for me. It does not look like poppy seeds on my finger, but I swear that is what I was handed in the beginning.

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I’m going to buy a book online. This made me think that maybe some of you don’t know about www.Abebooks.com. It is a great place to buy books. The company acts like a brokerage for all the used bookstores around. There is a search engine that will find all the sources of the book you are looking for and will give detailed information on the condition of the book and the location of the seller. I have asked it to show me the vendors by cost – that is, the vendors who list their book with the cheapest prices will appear at the top of the list. The order is placed with Abebooks but shipped from the vendor. I’ve ordered a number of books from this place, ranging from old out of print books to some that were brand new and were from overstock. I’ve had no disappointments in the books or the service. The book I am after now has just come into the local Borders near us, but I can buy a new copy for about $15 less (which includes the shipping cost) that Borders sells it for. Anyway, it’s a really good place to know about.

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Finally, a story on myself that is very embarrassing, although it was just one of those things that was true but sounded awful. Many years ago I was working for The Salvation Army in Ontario as a social worker. My office was a tiny hole in the wall, big enough for a desk and chair, and two more chairs for clients. The only light in it was a small ceiling fixture with a 60 watt bulb in it, which was turned on and off by a cord that hung down into the center of the room. There was a tiny window that looked out on the railroad tracks. This Salvation Army really worked hard to serve the people who lived in the less desirable part of town.

We didn’t have frills, and donors’ money was carefully spent. It was a Friday afternoon and the line of clients seemed to be endless. I was working hard to get them all seen before closing time and I really hadn’t paid much attention to the passing time. Finally I reached the end of the line and as I escorted the last person into my office, I realized how late in the afternoon it was and I figured I’d better turn the light on in my office. As I reached up to pull the light cord, I remarked “Gosh, it got dark in here all of a sudden.” The client was a large black man.