knit one, pearl two what?
Yesterday was long winded… En-route home I thankfully remembered that the cats were out of food – so we changed our course so Chad could cash his paycheck and we could go to Target.
On the ride we got into a discussion about voice recognition technology used by companies these days, (instead of actually hiring humans to answer the phone). Sprint’s system came up… A computerized woman answers and welcomes you to your call and asks “How can I help you today?” – followed by a pause. I’ve encountered this before and have spoke what I was wanting to do and been connected to the right department.
A mischievous streak overcame us and we decided to try calling and ask something ridiculous.
Sprint Computer: “How can I help you today”
Us: “Replace carburetor on 67′ Chevy”
Sprint: (pause) “Here are some popular choices. When you hear the one you want, just speak it: Billing Question,… Make a Payment,… Technical Issue….”
Us: “Medical Tissue”
Sprint: “OK – I’ll connect you now”
Kitty-chow in trunk, we stopped by the Fabric store across the street from Target. We received a beginners’ crochet and knitting kits from Kevin’s family for Christmas since we showed an interest over Thanksgiving watching Kev’s sister-in-law sit and whip out baby hats like a machine.
We needed yarn.
Now – if you’ve never been in a fabric / crafts store, they exhibit the same kind of cultish “secret club” vibe that comic book stores do. Except they’re populated by older ladies and Molly Ringwaldish young women wearing homemade fashions.
I swore I heard a bolt of fabric hit the floor as a hush overcame the store as us three burly guys walked in. I’m sure they thought we were there to rob them. Rubbernecking women aside, we made our selections and headed home.
We realized this was way harder than it looks – but muddled through the directions and practiced the basics for a couple of hours.
I picked up the crochet hook and Kevin translated the cryptic instructional glyphs in the “how to” book.
I finished the movement before he could tell me the final step and I got hit with one of those powerful memory smacks – the kind than are so overpowering that you zone out momentarily.
I already knew this… My hands remembered.
My grandmother taught me how to crochet when I was a very young – and I had completely forgot about it.
In that momentary zone-out I was six years old again, sitting on the floor of the living room floor at my grandmother’s feet. Mom was working at the department store. I had just had dinner, liver and onions, (which I can’t stand today – but grandma’s tasted good)… Family Feud was on the television. I could smell her… that “Grandma smell” – not a bad smell – but unmistakable… a scent burned into my childhood memory from countless hugs.
I came back to the present with a tear in my eye. I miss her.
The guys asked where I just went, …
“Somewhere I forgot about… I won’t blog about it tomorrow.”