I looked all over for it the weekend we were working on the shed. It was absolutely perfect to wear for that job. The last time I saw it, it was tucked into the toolbox I packed for a trip to my mom's. Hey. Don't look at me like that. Don't you pack a toolbox to visit your mother? No? Well count your blessings while I count mine.
I must have left it there. At my mom's. Because I sure as shit can't find it here. Despite searching high and low, in and out, up and down, thither and yon, here and there.
When working on projects, it's a good idea to have handy pockets. Such pockets should be large enough to easily accomodate an adult human hand yet shallow enough to avoid contorting to retrieve the contents. They should be easily donned and removed, and perch comfortably just below my waist. Such pockets should hang within easy reach in any posture and be constructed of tough material with fortified stitching to withstand pointy objects, intentional pocket overcrowding, and other inevitable physical stressors.
I'm speaking of a work apron of course. Mine is ecru canvas. It has pockets such as those described above. Three of them. It ties with long strings behind my back. It's currently M.I.A.
It was a gift from my friend Tina. The occasion was the opening of the first (of four) high school musicals we produced together. The Boy was a freshman, Tina's eldest daughter a sophomore. The story of how we ended up as High School Musical Producers is long and convoluted with high, high peaks and low, low valleys. But Producers we were, with the scars to prove it. (Oh sure, of course I'm being dramatic. I'm speaking of theatre here! A bit of drama is permitted... Nay, required!)
That evening, we met in the lobby of the high school. The place was abuzz. We were abuzz. Opening night!
That was when she gave it to me. A piece of tape across the front labeled me as Producer in her neat penmanship. Tina had filled the pockets with items she knew we would need to have handy that evening: safety pins, advil, pens, bandaids, rubber bands, masking tape, scissors, markers, and other stuff I've forgotten but she probably remembers. I was prepared for anything.
I've gotten a lot of good use out of that apron since that night. I wear it often. It doesn't look as pretty these days, paint-splattered and dirty. But so, so practical. Oh yeah baby. That'll never wear off.
I must find that thing!
.
I must have left it there. At my mom's. Because I sure as shit can't find it here. Despite searching high and low, in and out, up and down, thither and yon, here and there.
When working on projects, it's a good idea to have handy pockets. Such pockets should be large enough to easily accomodate an adult human hand yet shallow enough to avoid contorting to retrieve the contents. They should be easily donned and removed, and perch comfortably just below my waist. Such pockets should hang within easy reach in any posture and be constructed of tough material with fortified stitching to withstand pointy objects, intentional pocket overcrowding, and other inevitable physical stressors.I'm speaking of a work apron of course. Mine is ecru canvas. It has pockets such as those described above. Three of them. It ties with long strings behind my back. It's currently M.I.A.
It was a gift from my friend Tina. The occasion was the opening of the first (of four) high school musicals we produced together. The Boy was a freshman, Tina's eldest daughter a sophomore. The story of how we ended up as High School Musical Producers is long and convoluted with high, high peaks and low, low valleys. But Producers we were, with the scars to prove it. (Oh sure, of course I'm being dramatic. I'm speaking of theatre here! A bit of drama is permitted... Nay, required!)
That evening, we met in the lobby of the high school. The place was abuzz. We were abuzz. Opening night!
That was when she gave it to me. A piece of tape across the front labeled me as Producer in her neat penmanship. Tina had filled the pockets with items she knew we would need to have handy that evening: safety pins, advil, pens, bandaids, rubber bands, masking tape, scissors, markers, and other stuff I've forgotten but she probably remembers. I was prepared for anything.
I've gotten a lot of good use out of that apron since that night. I wear it often. It doesn't look as pretty these days, paint-splattered and dirty. But so, so practical. Oh yeah baby. That'll never wear off.
I must find that thing!
8 comments:
I don't have an apron, and my that one sounds mighty fine, but I do have a big o pair of pants. Mostly for working in the *yard* the pants have many of the elements you describe.
Good Luck finding your apron.
I hate to point fingers but I think your mother has it...
What you need, my friend, is a Utilikilt!
Points to gunfighter for clever referencing of your previously-posted material!
I'm certain we can re-assume possession of the apron when next we visit your mom. I am so very sorry though that it won't be available for your use this weekend in NYC. ;p
Too bad, I see it's not only useful but has such sentimental value... However, couldn't you just buy another one since you feel such a need & a loss? That way when you FIND the original, then Wendy will inherit it & have one of her own!
So, do your dogs follow you around while you look for lost things? I leave stuff I need (keys, wallets) in really random places and every dog I've had will follow me from room to room while I look.
A place for everything...
Allow me to answer on Suzanne's behalf. Only one of the dogs follows her every move. The other keeps a casual eye on her progress, and only stirs his lazy ass if she should near the doggy treat jar.
So, that's the appeal of bassets! I totally get it.
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