If I catch the right bus in the morning, i get the privilege of sharing space with the crochet lady.
I think she's the first person on the bus every day, because she always gets the same seat.
Everything she wears in ornately crocheted: dress, hat, mittens, multiple handbags... and naturally, she spends her time on the bus making tiny, complicated little stitches.
I think she speaks crochet. Which explains why she doesn't relate very well to the other people on the bus.
I think she lives in a cozy, warm crochet cocoon. She crawls in after taking bus home from wherever she goes every day. It would suck in the summer time; but now that winter has arrived, I'm filled with envy.
You see, we have the opposite problem. A bunch of men built scaffolding behind our building. They took off all the bricks, some of the wood and other things that I'm afraid to find out about. It's not cozy at all.
Now I know how I cope during major home renovations: I pretend they're not happening.
Nope. Those guys aren't outside my kitchen window in 15 below weather. Nope. We're not going to collectively (with our neighbours) spend tens of thousands of dollars fixing the back of the building. Nope. Not happening.
I just look out the window and think there are Dozers outside, doing their good work while I have inane and probably ultimately frivolous indoor Fraggle adventures of my own.
Maybe I can invite crochet lady over and she can make a giant cozy to cover our house and keep us warm while the bricks are missing? I think she's up to the task. Maybe she is riding the bus waiting for just such an opportunity.
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