Last week I made a special stop at an Office Depot to purchase a box of pencils. It was a little odd, considering that I have an iDevice that never is out of arms length. Same with my untethered laptop — and both have apps designed specifically for taking notes. But scribbling a note with a bright yellow, Dixon Ticonderoga #2 pencil (The World’s Best Pencil), is an entirely different experience for me. More immediate and less fixed. I can misspell words without looking for a dictionary. Or just doodle geometric shapes. Or just, you know, jot something down. And then erase it, leaving those little, dirty pink commas as evidence.
This week I went into an auto parts supply store for a quart of 10w/40 motor oil and a tube of white lithium grease. Both are for my spinning wheel. I don’t frequent these stores, so I had to ask for help finding these things amongst the specialty tools and shiny chrome and fuzzy dice. At the cash register, I thanked the helpful teenager, and told him now he could say he assisted an old lady with stuff to maintain her spinning wheel.
Last night we watched a Swedish cop show with English subtitles streaming on our television. I can’t knit and read subtitles, so I started twisting a cloth napkin into odd shapes, tying knots, tucking in ends, and pulling them tight. Then I undid them and started again. After about 30 minutes, my husband asked, “What are you doing to that poor napkin?” I looked at him a little blankly and said, “I’m fidgeting, what does it look like?” Perhaps I should have tried spinning on my new Jeri Brock spindle. I may be able to keep up with the subtitles while spinning.