More Bus Talking

The other night on the bus, I was working on Tall Flowers. This sniffly little boy got on, and sat right near me. I thought I was going to hate him, but he charmed me utterly.

The boy, Rich: What are you sewing?
Me: It's called a sampler that's because it has letters on it.
Rich: My grammy sews.
Grammy: It's needlepoint.
Rich: Right now, she's sewing a pillow that says, "Quiet, baby sleeping."
Me: Is there a new baby in your family?
Rich: It's my sort of cousin.
Me: Sort of?
Rich: It's my stepdad's sister.
Grammy: Step-grandfather's daughter.
Me: Your sort-of cousin. [But really, people, isn't everyone a cousin--who keeps track of the removes and the half and the steps. So much trouble, cousin!]
Rich: What's your name?
Me: Me. What's your name?
Rich: Rich.
Me: Do you know what my father's name is?
Rich: No.
Me: Rich.
Rich: Do you know what my great-grandfather's name is?
Me: No.
Rich: Rich. Do you know what my grandfather's name is?
Me: Rich?
Rich: Yup. Where do you live?
Me: Havertown.
Rich: I live in Havertown too. Where do you live?
Me: I live near the [shopping center].
Rich: I don't know where that is.
Grammy: Is that where the [grocery store] is?
Me: Yes.
Grammy to Rich: It's where the [grocery store] is.
Rich: That's good, then you can walk to get your groceries.
Me: That's right.
Rich: How do you know where to stitch?
Me: [explains difference between painted needlepoint and counted cross stitch. explains about starting in the center.]
Rich: Which letter did you start with?
Me: [figures out center of pattern]: The letter C.
Rich: Are you almost done?
Me: [shows pattern] What do I have left to stitch?
Rich: [Begins pointing to all the empty boxes at the bottom] here, here, here.
Me: What else besides the boxes?
Rich: [investigates pattern closely] [and with help from grammy] The leaves!
Grammy pulls the rope to get off.
Rich: [from the exit well] Do you have a driver's license?
Me: Yes.
Rich: Do you have a car?
Me: Yes.
Rich: Well, then, you're all set! [Rich jumps from the bus]
Man sitting next to grammy: That little boy knows you better than anyone else on earth!
Woman sitting across the aisle from me: We're all coming over to your house now.

Doctor, Doctor

I went to the doctor this morning. His office is three blocks from mine so it seemed ridiculous to take a cab. By the second block, I had a blister on my hand from the crutches.

The doctor is very pleased with my recovery. He says I must have been doing everything right. I think my foot looks disgusting: it's bruised all up the inner side from my ankle to my big toe; the top if the foot is a little green and a lot swollen. It sort of looks like fresh toes have been planted in the foot of someone who drowned recently. And even the fresh toes are stained from Betadine. The little toes--which were hammer--are caked with dried blood and stitches. I'm a little distressed that the pinky toe, which used to live under my other toes, looks like it was taken off and put on sideways. My "ring" toe still looks like a reversed comma, which I thought was the point of the surgery. Clearly, this isn't a cosmetic procedure; I guess I hoped for pretty feet after all that pain.

Two more weeks on the crutches, bearing weight on the heel, which makes walking go a whole lot faster. Then, he'll take out the stitches in the little toes and unwrap the bandages, and I go to straight into sneakers for some period of time. (I had more pressing questions during this visit: should I bend my toes? Can I drive? Take the stairs? Take a shower?) I could probably take public transportation, but I think I'm going to continue to drive in until I'm back in sneakers. I've seen what they do to cripples on the subway.

Talk to Me

I'm thinking that when I stitch in public a neon sign lights up on my forehead, talk to me. The other day this drunk crazy guy started a conversation with me about the stitching. It's great, apparently, that I do it. I have a lot of patience. Yadda, yadda. He once flew to Europe first class on Pan Am. Ok, whatever, that was a long time ago, crazy drunk man. Then he tells me he was supposed to be on the Locherbie flight. Well, don't talk to me about supposed to be, I know someone who was on the flight. And that's when I started thinking.

This guy I worked with in New York, Judd, once told me that I wouldn't remember anyone I worked with at Plenum Publishing except for Crazy Alice; I was supposed to remember her above all others because she was crazy. Alice was the first person I ever met who I could identify as among the working poor. I was making $15K, so she had to have been making nothing. She once came to work with a huge bandage on her head. It was covering an open sore that she couldn't afford to have a doctor look at. That's when he told me that I would only remember Crazy Alice. But he was wrong. First, I remember him. I remember Sam and Jo and Michael and Jamie. It's true I'm a little hazy on the graphic designers. But we remember people by the remarkable things that happen.

Back to 1988. We worked together, Steve and I, doing telephone surveys and other market research. During the summer, we'd get sent to various malls and grocery stores to hand things out to be tested. Cherry Rolaids. Lightbulbs. Kudos bars. He was the best at handing out a million boxes of something and getting off early. He's the only guy I remember from that job, and I only remember him because he died in a most spectacular way while I was at home in the warm bosom of my family one Christmas. I don't remember anyone else from that job.

Okay, I remember the woman who used to drink in her car on breaks...and now we're back to the crazy drunks.

All that because I was stitching Happy Bunny Bunny Day on the bus.

SBQ: Travelling Stitcher

Do you stitch “on the go?” (On the commute to and from work, during your lunch break, waiting for the kids, etc.) If so, do you have a specific “travel” project or do you just grab whatever you happen to be working on and take it with you?
Yes, I do. Some days I only stitch on the commute to and from work, like yesterday, when my evening was taken up trying to figure out the taxes. (The only time I figured my California taxes correctly was when I used Turbo Tax; they're impossible. And I'm not buying TT to figure out how much I owe for my one month of residence!)

I sometimes have a travel project and sometimes I take whatever I'm working on. I am a little reluctant to do the latter, however. Even though I'm pretty conscientious about keeping my things neat and clean, the bus and the subway are dirty. Eventually though, I did bring Souvenir on my commute because I just had to get it done! But I wouldn't bring large projects. You need to keep yourself kind of small when you stitch on public transportation.

Mack Attack

I have completed the main stitching on Miss Mary Mack. I had to do the head and hair in full cross stitches. When you are making a circle (like the face), half stitches just don't work. Now I have to order the tin pin. I know the design will fit across, but I might need some more stitching to get it to fit properly vertically. I was thinking of using either some stitches from the border or putting some silver buttons on it. Teeny-tiny silver buttons. But first I need the tin pin.

I've started stitching on the subway. I have now stitched on every main mode of transportation (plane, train, automobile, bus, and subway). I had been reading Laura Thatcher Ulrich's book The Age of Homespun on my commute (full report when I finish), but I was getting nauseated, which is no way to begin your day. Yesterday, I decided to bring along an ornament to work on. It's not easy to stitch on the bus and subway; there's a lack of space, and trying to keep purses and bags on your lap while you move your arms is no picnic. I'm working on Brown House Studio's Folk Art Topiary from the Just Cross Stitch 2004. It's one of the many ornaments I plan to make for family Christmas presents.

On the subway, a guy was surprised to see me stitching. He marvelled at my ability while the train was "rocking so much." Honestly, the subway doesn't rock as much as commuter rail does (it's warmer underground). I told him that I stitched while driving across country. "You weren't driving?" he jokingly asked. People are so witty.

Nighttime stitching is back to the Souvenir Sampler. My deadline is March 31.