Lost Arts

This morning I went straight from dropping my son off at school to the muffler shop. The tailpipe on my Honda Odyssey had come loose just behind the muffler. I can't stand a loud car, not to mention I was in imminent danger of the whole length of tailpipe coming loose and falling right off.

This led to the following conversation.

I sat in the muffler shop waiting area, working on the brown leaf bookmark. The guy at the counter said, "What is that you're crocheting?" I refrained from stabbing him with my size 1's, and said politely, "I'm knitting, actually, and it's a lace pattern for a bookmark." He said that he crocheted, and I said, "Oh, that's cool!" and silently wondered how it was he couldn't tell knitting needles from a crochet hook.

Then the muffler tech came out of the shop, and asked what I was tatting. I said again that I was knitting, but I did know how to tat, and he said, "That's a lost art, tatting."

Argh. Well, he said his mother, who was from New Zealand, used to tat. If she was still alive, I'd invite her to our lace group meetings.

It's funny the things people say and the way they open up when you carry hand work around with you!