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Bob's Yarn and Quiet

I’m feeling a little bad this morning. I haven’t written about yarn or the fiber arts in quite a while. I am aware that people read Monner’s Mumbliings to find out what’s new in the world of yarn and at the store. The true purpose of these stories is to keep you guys informed on what’s going on with Ivy and Elaine in the world of knitting and weaving.

With that in mind, I’m going to let the “cat out of the bag”. Despite my great knowledge of yarn, there are times when I am asked a question and I feel like I need to “press 1 for English”. Have you ever noticed the names of the different yarns are meant to confuse? I’m serious! It seems the yarns are usually named something that sounds (to me) like it should only be used in France, Italy, Spain and the like. Why can’t yarn be named “Bob’s Sheep Hair Yarn”? A name like that has everything a person needs to know. Bob owned the sheep. The sheep had the hair. Bob made the yarn. Bob made the yarn from sheep hair. See, no need to use the translator on your smart phone (more about this later) to find out why this particular yarn is called some and who made it.

Yesterday, in the store, I heard someone ask, “What’s the difference between a knit and a pearl? (purl-Elaine corrected the spelling)” Only quick action by myself prevented me from incredible embarrassment. I didn’t have time to “press 1” on my smart phone. I used “universal sign language” (more about that later). I simply pointed to Ivy. The ability to communicate with my hands is a gift I have used often in the store.

Rest assured, we (YOUR DAILY FIBER) have plenty of new things at the store that Elaine and Ivy can translate for you. Even if I’m not in the store because I’m saving you from hunger (building three restaurants) Ivy and Elaine can help you.

Did I mention construction? Wow, what a week in my construction world.

Restaurant #1 has progressed nicely. We have hung the sheet rock and the drywall finishers have started making the sheet rock look pretty. Drywall finishing is an art. It has been taken over by our friends from foreign countries. Communication can be a problem. Oh, I know! I could have paid attention in junior high school and I would be able to communicate with the workers of today. Seriously folks, it wasn’t my fault. In eighth grade Spanish class, I was asked a question by the teacher. She didn’t think my answer was as funny as I did. She asked me to stay after class.

After class, she asked me to bend over and grab my ankles. I told her I wouldn’t do that. She took that paddle and hit me square in the middle of my back. I laughed and went to my next class. Somehow, I lost interest in speaking Spanish. I have regretted that decision. Not the decision to answer her like I did. (I would do it again.) Nor the decision not to bend over. Just the decision not to learn Spanish.

Where was I? Oh yeah, drywall finishers. If I need to speak with them, and I can’t get them to understand, I can type what I need to say on my smart phone. I press an icon on my phone and the phone tells them what I need to say. (If I had known this technology was going to be available in my lifetime, I might have gone back and punched that teacher. (Oops, I meant to shake her hand.)

I noticed a drywall finisher that was extraordinarily quiet. He was about my age and extremely good at his craft. (Before I go on, I need to tell you; I have met a bunch of people in my life that have touched my heart.)

This quiet drywaller was the first person on the job every morning. He always greets me with an enthusiastic wave. One day, I felt a tap on my back. As I turned around the quiet drywaller was motioning for me to follow him. Together we walked across the restaurant, not saying a word. He showed me an imperfection in the drywall. I asked him to fix it, and he nodded in the positive.

Over the years, I have not been able to communicate with hundreds over workers, due to the fact, that they spoke in their native language and I was hit on the back with a wooden paddle. This guy was no exception.

Later in the day, Quiet, (as I will now call the quiet drywaller) motioned for me to come over where he was working. He reached in his pocket,pulled out a phone and punched a few numbers. He handed me his phone. On the screen was a guy talking. I was wondering why Quiet wanted me to watch a video. After a couple seconds I figured out I was watching, I realized the guy on the phone wast alking to me. I had heard phones would to this, but I have never done it myself. I guess this called time facing or face timing…

I finished my conversation with the guy on the phone/television (whatever) and handed the phone back to Quiet. Something happened! I had a thought! (AMAZINGLY, I had a thought!) I pointed to my ears and then his. Quiet shook his head no. I pointed to my mouth and then his. Quiet shook his head no.

In all my years, this was a new one for me. Sadly, I only know a couple hand signs. I know thumbs up (good) and thumbs down (bad). I also know the sign I see a lot when I’m driving. The one where the nice people wave at me because I'm driving too slow.

Quiet touches my heart. Can you imagine the courage of this man who came from a land far away. Not only does he not speak the language, he can’t hear it.

Like I said, Quiet is the first person on the job every morning. If he observes anyone that could use a hand carrying something or opening and holding a door, Quiet is the guy. God bless, Quiet. Oh yeah, I show Quiet thumb ups or thumbs down many times during the day. I have not shown him my driving finger. I’m saving that for the woman that hit me.

Our crazy lives!


PS While Elaine was proofreading, she said this was one of my best stories, (you decide, hit like or tell me) but she had never seen so many typos. I’m not sure why. I didn’t get hit in typing and English class. I guess I just didn’t pay attention.g and English class. I guess I just didn’t pay attention.

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