These Boots Ain’t Made for Walkin’


Another beautiful day in Huron and I sit here at the computer for most of the day trying to identify patterns and makers of glass.  What fun.  There have to be courses for this sort of thing somewhere because I think I can now tell the difference between cut and molded.  (Molded has a seam line)  Flint glass is heavy.  Forget the maker unless it’s Heisey which used to mark their glass and as for the pattern, I figure if you get the pattern you can eventually find the maker.  To find the pattern you just have to look up what it is like waffle, reeded, triangle, pineapple, falling blocks, hobnail, fan, and on and on or a combination of those.  Then you join a glass group that “for members only” will help you to identify it.  Uh huh…  I was able to find three out of 20.  How do you see whether it is EAPG (Early American Pressed Glass) or modern and what is the difference between pressed and molded and how can you tell the difference?  I decided that no one cared anyway and hopefully if they did care they would tell me what the pattern was themselves.  It’s much easier just to label them “salt and pepper shakers”, etc.  Perhaps I’ll lose money, perhaps I’ll earn money but at least I won’t be sitting here looking up glass patterns for weeks on end.

So, to cheer myself up I hauled some garage sale stuff into the cellar and brought up the wheels we need to move the bookcases in Red Creek and dug out the screens which need to be washed before installed.  Then I put my brand new boy’s size 4 hip wader boots on and headed to the creek that surrounds our property to pick up trash that blew in through the winter.  I have learned that even if it looks like a small amount that I have to bring a large trash bag with me and sometimes even that isn’t enough.  However, this would be the first year that I could get the trash out of the middle of the creek because I had hip waders.  After filling up half of the bag with what looked to be my entire garage sale of last year (it was very windy that day) I headed for the middle of the creek to get the floating styrofoam.  I noticed that the frogs were out which was comforting because that made me not so alone and the creek is somewhat stagnant and slimy in places and I hate to imagine just what is in there besides Giarda.  Three steps and I sank slowly to the ankles, faster to the hips and then to the waist.  I don’t know if you have ever used hip boots before (I hadn’t) but I now know that if they get full of water it is very, very cold and your foot creates a suction to the boot so that you are just plain stuck.  So, I sat down with a splash thinking I could get the boots off that way but it didn’t work so I jumped up really fast because of the things that may be in that slime.  Thank the Lord for trash barrels because one had blown down there and I was going to haul it up when I was done with the styrofoam.  I wonder if my husband would every find out that I had drowned and sunk in our back yard?  Luckily, I was able to hang on to the barrel and get one foot (with the boot on) out and then the other.  It seemed to take forever to climb the hill back to the house with a trash bag half full of garbage and two trash barrels (I found another) and my boots full of water.  We now have a cedar tree with upside-down boots hanging and clothes that smell like a frog in the laundry pile.

Golly, two fun things for the day.  I remember when I was little and I used to have to walk (here it comes) miles and miles to and from school.  Some of those miles were walking across the soccer field and then over the sty on the fence (that was fun).  This one time it was mud season like now and I was walking across the field and my foot got stuck in the hole that used to hold the soccer goal poles.  I lost my little red boot and hobbled home.  I don’t really remember what happened when I got there but I do remember walking back with my big sister to dig out my boot.  I kept thinking of that when I was up to my waist in water and it made it very important to me to get my boot out as well as my foot.

I had a client come to the store today which was also a very nice break from the computer.  As per usual, the barn was 30 degrees colder than the outdoors and when I opened the register drawer there was the usual pile of corn kernels in one of the change holders.  Some time I’m going to give kernels for change and see if anyone notices.  I really need to get out there and clean.  I mean, who wants quilts that are buried in dust and glass ware that you can’t see the colors of?  However, I have so many other things to do.  My husband said he would help but he ended up working for a couple of hours (all day) so of course he couldn’t.  What is it with husbands anyway?  He either works or sleeps.  Once in a while, though, he cooks wonderful dinners.  Which reminds me I haven’t eaten.

Noodles!

3 thoughts on “These Boots Ain’t Made for Walkin’

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