Saturday, February 11, 2006

Ene all the time!

Ene by day!













And, Ene by night!


She's done! And why no blocking pictures, you ask? Because they would have been accomanied by a blaring warning - Danger Danger! Don't try this at home! Blocking was a disaster.

First, I spent all day in court waiting around to do a sentencing for a kid who grabbed some girl's butt. Could the court system find a program for this kid? No. Let's just take the mentally ill, and make a movie like Twelve Monkeys, and pretend they don't exist. Whatever, I don't make the jails, I just fill 'em, apparently.

Then, the temperature dropped, and I had to cross town in the freezing wind to purchase blocking pins. I came in from the cold, picked up Nicky Epstein's book as a little treat to myself, and went to pay for my purchase - 30 pins and a juicy book. I handed the person my items, and while I waited, a child started chanting, I played all day, all day I played. I sighed, and said, "Gosh, I wish I could play all day." The clerk handed me my purchase and said, "you were her age once, and you did get to play all day. That's over, you're a grown-up, and it's time to pay the piper."

Pay the f-ing piper! I marched home. Pay the f-ing piper!?!? I wet Ene down, and threw her on the futon. Started stabbing her with pins - here's one for the f-ing piper! And then . . . mid block, I ran out of pins. I called Grace in a panic - Loop is only 3 blocks from my house, and they're open late on Thursdays . . . nope, we just sold our last box. DRAT!!!!!!! But, you can borrow mine . . . GRACE YOU ARE A LIFE SAVER!!!!!

By the way, Grace has a new plan to avoid the temptation of buying more and more yarn, and watching your stash grow and grow and grow. Take all of your projects, and box them up in individual boxes. Take the boxes to the post office. Each month, have the post office mail you a box. You open it up -- look, a new project! new yarn! Yummy! The netflix of the overknitter.

Anyway, I rewet, and reblocked, and I forgot about the damn piper. But, I'm sure next time I'm in court, and I'm standing next to some poor guy who can't afford an attorney, and I'm thinking about all of the money I put into my degree, and the ten years I've put in as a public servant, and my measly $50,000 pay check, and how I apparently don't deserve a day where I get to play all day, and I'll really be thinking that I owe some damn piper.

4 comments:

oldhall said...

I hear you, W, I've thought about this, and here's what I think: the challenge is to be able to call your career a part of your life NO DIFFERENT THAN ANY OTHER PART, knitting or talking to an accused or cooking dinner or researching a case, it's all the same, it's the same 'you' doing each task, none is any better or worse than any other, because it's all part of your life, and if you can decide that your life is 'fun', then... viola! Now your job is fun, it's playtime, because that's the way your whole life is.

Merrill Mason said...

Yearning to play all day means you're still alive!

Theresa said...

I love the Netflix idea! It's like brand-new old yarn. Love it. Love it.

Sherry W said...

Screw the piper, what a silly outlook on life. Like somehow we have a debt to pay for each fun and carefree moment we have. Go outside and peg someone with snowballs or stop in a puddle on the way to court. Screw the piper!