first bag ever

Originally uploaded by nonsonoitaliana

This week has been strange so far- On Monday I went to the local hospital to have some bumps on my head removed. A really simple procedure, but I absolutely loathe the place and have to work hard to stay calm while there. I know that doctors all over the world are similar, and that it’s not only in Italy that the surgeon discusses his various vacations with the intern while slicing into a patient’s body, but still I end up feeling hostile anyway. Because of that and also being told to sign a form that says I have been informed about the operation procedure and possible complications, when no one has even spoken to me except to say “sign.”

The rest of the day and all yesterday were spent doped up on ibuprofen and sewing. Mostly mundane sewing (hemming curtains and pants, mending) but I also made this tote bag and 4 placemats, mostly from scraps of cloth I bought at Ikea. You can’t look too closely at it, but from a distance it looks great and I am pleased to have a new tote to carry my yarn about.

I went grocery shopping yesterday and was distressed that the butcher was also helping folks who needed things from the bakery, cheese and coldcuts area… without washing his hands. On top of it, when I first walked up he was washing the glass cases, which one might think was a good thing, until some fake ivy fell out onto the floor and he threw it back in on top of the raw meat… and then walked behind the counter to help me, all without any inclination to clean the hands. So I asked for cheese that was already wrapped up, made sure we cooked the heck out of the meat, and I’m scared to eat the prosciutto. What am I going to do now? I’ve been dedicated to going to this place, trying to support my local business and not use the car on the weekends for shopping, but how can I continue? And the guy is so nice- went down into the storage room to find shishkebab skewers for me when the other two women working had told me there weren’t any. But then I think of all the dirt and dust he must have encountered in the storage room… it’s an awful quandry, really.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: