Another Yarn Fest has come and gone. We at Your Daily Fiber would like to thank you for your support. When I say Your Daily Fiber, I mean Elaine and Ivy. Me? Not so much. Once again I did not get to participate. Elaine and Ivy get to fun of selling the yarn and talking to the people that enjoy the yarn. Me? My job is dye the yarn and then I get to carry it. Elaine tells me I am good at both tasks. I don’t see her changing my tasks any time soon.
I did get to greet customers in the store while Elaine and Ivy were living it up at Yarn Fest. I was pretty good at my job. A nice lady from the Midwest came in and picked out some yarn. She even asked me if I thought the yarn in her hand was lace weight or DK weight. I’ve heard Elaine and Ivy talk about yarn weights so I thought, “Monner don’t panic, you have this. She didn’t say do you KNOW if this yarn is lace weight or DK. She said, do you THINK this yarn is lace weight or DK.” I told her I thought it was DK. Of course, while I was guessing, I called Ivy and asked her if I was right. Sometimes a smartphone can be your best friend. Did I mention I guessed right? Chalk one up for Ol’ Monner.
Another lady came in and asked me to dye some yarn to her specifics. I had just spent the last month dyeing yarn and did not dye what she was looking for. Oh well, at least the job is going to be easy.
After Yarn Fest was over Elaine mentioned she had fun, but she was glad it was over. She was going to return to her life of knitting, weaving, and spinning. I’m going back to construction. Doesn’t seem fair to me but you can decide for yourself.
Now that I think about it, it is fair. I won’t have to carry big boxes of yarn and Elaine won’t need to tell me where to put them. See everyone’s a winner!
Did I tell you it is girls softball season at the middle school?
Girl Twin (and Girl Twin’s friend’s mother) asked me to help coach the team. I emailed the school and volunteered. I was told the school had it under control, but if I desired I could come out and hang around.
Hang around? That’s what Elaine and Ivy tell me I can do at the yarn store. Feel free to hang around but don’t get in the way and don’t say anything to anybody.
I decided it might be fun to sit in the bleachers with the other parents. I was wrong. I realized I came from a different generation than the other parents at the parents “kickoff” meeting.
After the school’s athletic director welcomed parents to the meeting, she proudly announced the first priority of the school was to win. I have a problem with that. The first priority of the girl’s softball coach is teach the girls to play softball.
Next the parents were told how much money it would cost each player to play softball. The softball coach is now speaking. She informed the parents she had ordered matching socks and a t-shirt with each players name on it to be paid for before the season starts. Next the parents were told it would be beneficial for each parent to buy their child a face mask to protect the child from being hit in the face with a softball. I observed most of the parents nodding approvingly.
I’m from a different generation. We didn’t have bike helmets and knee and elbow pads for riding our skateboards (Yes, I had a skateboard). While the parents were discussing where to buy face masks, I was thinking, “Why don’t we teach the kids to catch the ball and maybe they won’t need the (construction language) masks”. (Construction language was not necessary here, but I was getting frustrated.)
The girls have played a couple games. They haven’t won yet, but I’m really hopeful. I don’t sit in the bleachers with the other parents. I think the other parents are OK with that. At the first game I was in the bleachers, Girl Twin was batting. She swung at a pitch. She missed the ball. Her coach yelled, “Good swing, do it again and hit it next time.” I couldn’t shut up. I yelled, “Girl Twin, that wasn’t a good swing. Remember your feet. You know what to do.” Girl Twin looked at me and nodded. The other parents were looking at me also. Girl Twin didn’t get another chance to swing at a ball. She was walked. All the while, wearing her matching socks and her t-shirt with her name on the back.
This might be a long season. I don’t think I will get a good sportsmanship parenting trophy.
Our crazy lives!