1999 january 5

growing up sharp

they're everywhere, they're everywhere!

with the holiday season rolling to a quiet close with the epiphany this wednesday, it seems everyone at the office is bringing in their leftovers with the hope someone will eat them. this has resulted in at least half a dozen blue tins of danish butter cookies taking up a short lived residence in our communal kitchen. i once thought there was but one sort of these cookies, but now i see that while they all may look alike, in both packaging and content, they are actually made by a number of different companies. how completely odd; you would think at least one of the manufacturers would have a little bit of creativity in this department. maybe there is some sort of cookie regulation in denmark.

doesn't matter, i'll eat them no matter what they look like; they don't disintegrate when you dunk them in hot chocolate.

**

i have been reminded that i never disclosed the contents of the mysterious wooden box from my father.

my father is a genius at remembering offhand comments i make. over the years, he has surprised me with gifts that were so perfect, i couldn't have asked for them myself. but i did, i just didn't remember doing so. he has been responsible for the bose stereo, the collection of my grandfather's old cameras and a crate of fresh grapefruit from florida, the complete works of shakespeare on my sixteenth birthday and the smallest, cleverest little pocketknife. this christmas it was a set of woodcarving tools.

this is a major milestone in my life.

prior to this i was not allowed to play with sharp objects. it is not that i have any intention of hurting myself, it's just i have a rather nasty habit of inadvertently stabbing and cutting myself in the course of normal everyday life. i nearly cut off the tip of my finger while setting the table [drew my hand back across the newly sharpened blade of a carving knife as i pulled out the forks], stabbed myself in the calf while embroidering [jumped up to answer the phone, forgetting the scissors were tucked into my shoe] and severed some nerves in my foot [dropped the mirror from a bathroom cabinet on it].

my father must think i am growing up, and it is true i haven't done more than bruise myself in the last couple of years. i am going to have a wonderful time playing with these tools. dad said, "grab a log and carve away everything that doesn't look like an elephant," so an elephant it shall be for my first project.

i am still not allowed to play with power tools or motorcycles but i now have hope that one day i will be riding down the highway on my harley, an electric drill strapped to my hip.

dunking her way to happiness, claire