Both Crazy Aunt Purl and She Just Walks Around With It have posts about their refrigerators up. I have a refrigerator full of food (and my freezer and pantry, too), which I am finding amazingly reassuring. I may still have to talk with my creditors, but we had five kinds of vegetables for dinner, and the Schwann’s man is my friend again. Since my husband’s company is talking about another week of shut-downs this month, it seemed essential to get some food into the house. The company he works for was recently listed by Forbes as one of the best-managed companies in the country. One thing they specially mentioned was the “just-in-time” philosophy and the way this keeps costs down. Closing plants in expensive New England and focusing on the non-union Southern states was another method mentioned in other descriptions of this company. They had a 20% rise in profits last year. With adequate supplies of both food and yarn, and all the utilities paid, we should be able to weather the next step in their excellent management, which is part of the good economic news our president has been talking about. Slow but steady progress on the cardigan (Erin from Alice Starmore’s Celtic Collection) allows me to avoid bitterness.
I’ve also finished and mailed the encyclopedia entry I was writing about the neighboring county. The truth is, my friends, that nothing of any historical significance ever happened in that county. I wanted to begin the entry by saying, “X County is a lovely place where people have been born, lived, suffered, loved, and died. This is the essence of human history.”
However, I was supposed to write about the native peoples (none since the cave dwellers, and they wandered off after a bit), the European explorers (they never bothered to go there), the early settlers (they farmed), the economic development (they farmed; when wars came along, they starved, and then they got back to farming; they are still farming), and all the ethnic groups (white people from Tennessee).
This makes for a dull article (as #1 daughter gently suggested, saying that she kept waiting for some controversy to develop), but it probably makes for a nice life.
Life is nice here, too. We’ve been talking about the Supreme Court and human rights, as I mentioned, but there is another topic of pith and moment which has been concerning us here chez fibermom. I would like to ask your opinion on this weighty question:
In an emergency, would you prefer to have James Bond or Angus MacGyver with you?
James Bond has more gear, of course, but MacGyver is better at improvising without gear. James Bond is more suave, but MacGyver may have better contacts (have you noticed, though, how rarely either of them runs into people they know? In real life, if you were continually pretending to be someone you were not, you would encounter old friends and former clients every third step).
#1 son clinched the matter for me when he pointed out, “James Bond wouldn’t actually care if you died.”
What do you think?