Thursday, February 19, 2009

Owl's Sight

Owl’s Sight
I don’t know much about owls, but I do know that they can turn their heads almost completely in a circle and they can see at night better than I can. Owls are swift and graceful and a symbol of wisdom. I wish I could be more like an owl sometimes. Well, I am swift (especially after a cup of coffee), but I am not always a symbol of wisdom, that is for sure.
So, I was supposed to go to a writing class today, but it didn’t happen because I couldn’t FIND the class. I don’t know if the class didn’t exist or I only imagined I was supposed to go to a writing class today. I paid to attend. I received confirmation for the class. But I couldn’t FIND the class. It was frustrating.
So needless to say, I am sitting in a coffee shop right now writing, instead of sitting in a class LEARNING about writing. The class was supposed to be at The University of Vermont in a building called Mann Hall, but there was no one there when I showed up. The hallway was dark and there was absolutely no one there.
Some random nice girl let me use her phone to call my husband to talk to him about the brochure to find out where I went wrong (I left the class brochure at home- duh.) But he couldn’t find the brochure anywhere. I told him I would drive around and call him back to give him some time to find it because I didn’t want to use air time on this poor random girl’s cell phone. I don’t know where I was driving to… but it felt better than standing in a parking lot after the girl left with her cell phone. I wanted to find a public phone to call my husband again, so I started driving around Burlington. I drove past my friend Greg’s house and decided to knock on his door to use his phone. I haven’t seen him in over two years, but he is the kind of friend that you can knock on his door to borrow his phone if you are unable to find a public phone.
You are thinking, "Get a cell phone."
My response: If I had a cell phone, I would not have learned about the Continental Method of knitting today.
You are thinking: Huh?
"Hey Greg."
"Hey Amy. How are you?"
"Fine. Can I use your phone? Sorry to knock so early."
"That’s okay. Come in. How have you been? You want some coffee?"
With Greg’s phone I called my husband to see if he could tell me more info about the class and see if he had found the brochure. He found it in (yes… in) the couch, but the address was the same one I had. How annoying! Who planned this class anyway? Greg is techno-savy. He has a lap-top, high-speed internet, a cell phone and a land line. While I was talking to my husband, he found the class information on-line and discovered that the class was in a different building (Waterman Building…) so I got in the car and went to the class.
Again… no one was there. I found an empty room with no students in it! Man, was I mad. So…I went back to Greg’s house (again) and called my husband (again…)
I ended up hanging out with Greg for about an hour. We caught up on what has been happening in our lives. I was telling him about making Blagz and blogging and my fears about my school closing. I told him about wanting to open a business someday if my school closed down. He is teaching business at the local community college and he shared about what that was like. He doesn’t seem to like it. But, after covering many topics, Greg told me about a little shop nearby called The Bobbin… he said I should check it out. He showed me the web-site first and it looked interesting: .
He used Google Maps to show me how to get there… wow… I really don’t spend enough time on-line… That was cool. I forgot about satellites… wow. He also showed me how to get to a coffee shop down the street so I could sit and do some writing and grab some lunch. After all, I had just driven a couple of hours to get to Burlington, so how could I possibly get in the car and go straight home? What a drag that would be… (not to go home, but to feel like I had wasted all that time in the car only to get back in the car and go home.)
I went to The Bobbin first. There was a woman in there named Rachel who was appliquéing an owl on a black hat. The store was great. It was bright and retro and I felt drawn in immediately. Her three-year-old son was there and he actually shares my younger son’s name. Desmond. There is another young Desmond out there.
Okay… wow. Weird.
I had to sit and knit in The Bobbin.
We talked about many things. One topic was left-handedness… and Rachel asked me if I knew how to knit with The Continental Stitch. Nope. She gave me instructions in a booklet and showed me how. I love learning knew things… they say that should happen every day, and since I couldn’t FIND my class…
We talked about Goddard College. We knew a few of the same people.
That’s Vermont.
I learned so much sitting in The Bobbin. They had hand-made things all over the place. They believe in "Sustainable Crafting." There were mittens made out of sweaters and animals made out of sweaters on one shelf and shirts made into coats on a rack. There were aprons and hats and berets and pillows on display and a rack of great Thrift Shop dresses from the 1970’s. Wow! I felt like I had died and went to crafter’s heaven. The place was so funky and comfortable. I sat for awhile and Rachel and I chatted while I practiced my new knitting stitch.
As I sat, I started noticing the owls all over the shop. There were macramé owls hanging from the ceiling and owls made from recycled clothes that were huggable. Rachel and I were kindred spirits. We reaffirmed the hand-made pledge for Christmas and parted as new-found-friends. I will go back there again someday because it was refreshing to see something I have only imagined in my wildest dreams. Someone is actually making a business out of being creative and social and thrifty. Go Rachel (and her partner I didn’t meet!)
And now… I have written a blog anyway. It has been a few months. I needed this. Instead of learning about writing in a class I couldn’t FIND, I actually went on my own field trip and followed a bread crumb trail out of The Bobbin to the coffee shop. Now it is time to go home to my family. Time FLIES (ha ha) when you’re on an adventure alone.