Change

Change

In the past weeks, when not writing or keeping house, I have been busy with crafts. Years ago, I bought a homemade scrubbie from a gal. She said she would sell them to me for a buck a piece. We were friends. When I went to pick up the three or four I ordered I guess we weren't as good of friends anymore. "I get a dollar fifty for them now," she told me.
 “You told me a buck a piece,” I complained. She grumbled but stuck to her original price.

I don’t remember what I did with the others but I’ve had one in my shower for these many years. It’s great to exfoliate your face and legs with. It’s getting wore out now, guys, I’m tellin’ ya! So it was with need in mind that I Googled it and found out how to make my own.

I sometimes share my crafts with Patty, the attendant at the Laundromat I frequent.

She likes to talk so I thought this would give us something else to jibber-jabber about.

No sooner had I walked in the door with a scrubbie in my hand than the owner saw it. “Where did you get this?” Janet asked reaching for the pretty blue scrubbie.

“I just made it,” I proudly declared as I handed it over.

“Do you sell them?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“I always get them for my sister. She loves them. I usually pick them up at flea markets but I haven’t been able to find them in a while. Do you have any more of them?” she asked.

“I have four more at home… oh wait, I gave one to Miss Helen. I have three more at home.”

“I’m leaving to go see my sister in a day and a half. If you can get me four of them by then I’ll give you two fifty a piece,” Janet offered. Before I had a chance to argue the price, she added, “That’s what I pay for them at the flea markets.”

I thought that sounded fair and I agreed. She paid me on the spot, I almost wished she wouldn’t have now, but that’s another story. And all’s well that ends well.

On the way home I stopped at the craft store. I got enough tulle for fifteen more scrubbies plus two Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs (it was before Easter) and I got a dollar and some change back from that ten I’d just earned. I was hoping Janet would buy more if I showed up with more and I wanted to be able to offer her other colors too.

I’ll tell you what! I love my scrubbies.

Most commonly you would use a scrubbie for dishes and I saw (on the internet of course) that you can wash them in the silverware holder of your dishwasher too. Not having one of those I can’t test that out for you. The scrubbies are especially good for your non-stick cookware because they won’t scratch, or your stainless sink. My kitchen scrubbie has almost replaced my beloved homemade dishrags for the washing of the dishes. But I still need to keep a dishrag handy for the wiping up.

Now I’ll tell you really what! Once I started using a homemade dishrag, I can’t image why I was ever so reluctant to try one in the first place. (It’s the change thing, I know. We don’t like change.) My first homemade dishrag came from Katrina, my daughter-in-law. She sent me one along with a few other small gifts. I put the dishrag on the desk of my shelf as I unpacked the small box and there it has lived ever since. Months… years now maybe.

Every time I would catch a glimpse of it as it peeked out from whatever junk I had piled on and around it, I would remember the estrangement between us. Why do we torture ourselves like that? Just use it, I admonished myself one day. Then you can hate it and throw it away and be done with it.

But I didn’t hate it. In fact I loved it. The loops and whorls of the knots seemed to help remove food from the dishes. So far so good, I thought. Let’s see how it does wiping up. I wrung it out and was pleased with the results. The yarn was absorbent and the nooks and crannies seemed to pick up and keep hold of the crumbs really well until you shake them out in the trash or rinse them out in the sink.

That was when I got busy making those.

Change can be a good thing.