One of my favorite stories from growing up is the one about Mom pulling a thread.
It was when Mom and Dad were still dating. One night when they were out on a date, Mom noticed a thread hanging. She pulled it. And pulled it and pulled it and pulled it. It really must have bugged her for her to keep pulling it like that. She pulled and pulled and pulled and the thread kept coming and coming until finally, it was all out.
Dad went home and got in trouble with his mom, my grandma. Apparently, he came home without his drawers on, and she noticed when she was gathering up clothes for washing. Big trouble!
Now that I am an adult, I have to wonder if this is a true story, and why, if it is, Dad didn't stop her from pulling on the thread. I mean, he must have noticed! Wouldn't it have tickled?
Thread is a word that haunts me through life. It has many meanings and implications. Not the least the fact that I used to pronounce thread with an "f". I would say, "a thpool of fred". Now my brother tells me that Dad had a lisp. I never noticed! Dad was big and scary and, well, Dad! But I had a lisp too and went to Mrs. Morganroth for speech class in elementary school, where we played "Chutes and Ladders" and other games that allowed us kids to use the words that troubled us correctly, but in a fun way.
That is why my handwriting is so bad. Penmanship was at the same time as speech. True story.
There are threads that show up through life. A memory here, a quote from a book there, a meeting of old friends and family gatherings. Threads weave, some come frayed. Sometimes they take me by surprise.
You know that movie, "UP", where the dogs keep saying "Squirrel!" and being distracted for a minute? I have those moments. But I could shout "thread!" and really make people wonder. My brain, like most people, keeps hold of many trivial things. Remembering seriously important things comes with a price. But things like old cigarette commercials and how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, those come free and frequently.
One thought ties to another, and soon, there is a whole tapestry woven from frayed thoughts and threads of ideas. It looks and feels like the back side of a needlepoint that someone who is not fastidious has done. The front is beautiful, the pattern is clear and fine. The back, not so much. Threads and knots and chaos!
So, based on the theme of threads, there will be more ramblings to follow.
I wonder how embarrassed Mom was when she heard what she had unraveled...
It was when Mom and Dad were still dating. One night when they were out on a date, Mom noticed a thread hanging. She pulled it. And pulled it and pulled it and pulled it. It really must have bugged her for her to keep pulling it like that. She pulled and pulled and pulled and the thread kept coming and coming until finally, it was all out.
Dad went home and got in trouble with his mom, my grandma. Apparently, he came home without his drawers on, and she noticed when she was gathering up clothes for washing. Big trouble!
Now that I am an adult, I have to wonder if this is a true story, and why, if it is, Dad didn't stop her from pulling on the thread. I mean, he must have noticed! Wouldn't it have tickled?
Thread is a word that haunts me through life. It has many meanings and implications. Not the least the fact that I used to pronounce thread with an "f". I would say, "a thpool of fred". Now my brother tells me that Dad had a lisp. I never noticed! Dad was big and scary and, well, Dad! But I had a lisp too and went to Mrs. Morganroth for speech class in elementary school, where we played "Chutes and Ladders" and other games that allowed us kids to use the words that troubled us correctly, but in a fun way.
That is why my handwriting is so bad. Penmanship was at the same time as speech. True story.
There are threads that show up through life. A memory here, a quote from a book there, a meeting of old friends and family gatherings. Threads weave, some come frayed. Sometimes they take me by surprise.
You know that movie, "UP", where the dogs keep saying "Squirrel!" and being distracted for a minute? I have those moments. But I could shout "thread!" and really make people wonder. My brain, like most people, keeps hold of many trivial things. Remembering seriously important things comes with a price. But things like old cigarette commercials and how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, those come free and frequently.
One thought ties to another, and soon, there is a whole tapestry woven from frayed thoughts and threads of ideas. It looks and feels like the back side of a needlepoint that someone who is not fastidious has done. The front is beautiful, the pattern is clear and fine. The back, not so much. Threads and knots and chaos!
So, based on the theme of threads, there will be more ramblings to follow.
I wonder how embarrassed Mom was when she heard what she had unraveled...
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