New Happy Hour

I’m stopped for a happy hour beer and a yarn-ball rolling stint, a block from my house. Despite walking past it almost daily, I’ve avoided this deli and organic/local farms butcher & market because during Covid they instituted a 10% service fee. Lots of places started adding fees, but usually more like 4%—and most took them off after lockdown. 

I resented that this deli only removed theirs when the City passed a law saying places could not charge these (often hidden in small print) fees. I thought the deli was awfully snooty, catering to the Montessori trade. (There’s a Montessori school in the neighborhood. Like I’ve said, this neighborhood is on a social border. And so am I.)

But lately I’ve heard that they are strong, active supporters of immigrants—and I saw signs that they’re hosting a “What to Do in an ICE raid” training—the sort my workplace should hold. So this afternoon I decided to try it, and it’s very nice, though it smells of smoked meats… a mix of delicious and disgusting. They’re playing good music though. (Some acoustic alt-country blues kinda music?)

I despair of my workplace. I won’t go into it, but Manageress just decreed something so nonsensical, it’s like saying, “I want us to flounder in disorder.”

I absolutely am committing HERE & NOW to putting my energy into My Own Work, especially into art making & toy playing!

I’ve already started—God’s eyes, Christmas card prints, needlework group, postcards, Bear repair, reaching out to people… and gathering tiny musical instruments for the Girlettes’ Christmas parade—new this year!

And now I am going to wind up some of this beautiful yarn I just got in the mail from k. It’s wool carpet yarn—too scratchy to wear next to the skin but absolutely ideal for winding around sticks.