Yesterday Patrick was looking for something to enable him to distribute powdered dye more evenly and precisely
[Thoughts? the mesh tea strainer I grudgingly allowed him is not meeting his needs. I was thinking a flour sifter but the holes in mine are too big and I think the circumference is larger than he wants. do they make small, fine mesh sifters? can you think of anything else that might do the job?]
so I took him to Joann fabrics to poke around the aisles. He didn't find anything for his tie-dye but we wound up in the section with novelty fabrics and fondly remembered our favorite from a couple of years ago. As best as we can recall it was a Christmas print on a cheerful green background with puppies and kittens frolicking around wrapped presents. All very jolly and seasonal except for the fact that the puppies and kittens were dead. Well, skeletons. So yes. Technically dead.
"Why didn't we buy that fabric?" Patrick asked.
"I have no idea. Mistakes were made."
We kept going down the row and Patrick said, suddenly, "What's the deal with owls?"
"Have you noticed how owls are all over the place now? Cute, sort of girly owls? Look, here's an owl print. And here's another. There's one. God there must be six or seven fabrics with owls on them on this shelf alone. It's like someone decided that people were going to like owls this year and everyone just said, ok, and started buying owl crap."
"Language," I said automatically. Then, "You should read Bellwether. It's about fads and... ."
"You would think that backpacks and shirts and... and fabric would be the easiest place in the world to be creative and original and interesting, like lots more morbid Christmas but no. Owls. My little pony, superheroes, Disney and owls! That's not art."
He stopped and looked at a bolt of fabric.
"Although this one is kinda nice."
He pulled it out.
"The colors are ok and... ."
He thought about it.
"Caroline really likes owls."
He looked around, saw a striped fabric and pulled that out as well. He studied them together. Then he looked at the shelf.
"Wow, they're on sale for a buck a yard. That's nothing."
And thus another perfectly good rant against the Establishment gets derailed by the siren song of pleasurable consumption.
PS Caroline and Edward looooooove their new owl pillows.