Of Tinkering and Kangaroos

I chose my red kangaroos for today. As my daughter Kathe and I strove to felt slippers for ourselves, she asked, "So, what earrings have you chosen for today?"

None dangled from my ears, and I'd forgotten that I'd set this pair aside for a day I spent some time with this remarkable young woman whom I dubbed Kathe-roo 25 years ago, when she was like a little Joey that I carried about in a pouch.

I saved the kangaroos from a pair of earrings I received as a gift before Kathe was born. My brother and his wife were living in Australia, and brought me this pair when they came state-side for a visit. But the metal of the earwires corroded, so I chopped them off and made this new pair, adding some beads along with the new earwires.

I'm wearing them as I finish off this day in which I enjoyed the company of all three of my children, now full-fledged hopping adults; Joeys in pouches are but a fond memory. My red kangaroos dangle from my ears. The slippers I felted will require some chopping and stitching to make them whole.

That's part of the joy of life--solving problems by fiddling and tinkering, chopping and stitching. But not tonight. My brain's just tinkered out.