Pensamientos: Sewing vs. Soccer

Last weekend, as I headed off to my weekend lingerie sewing class at Cañada, I suddenly noticed the dummy light, indicating I hadn't shut the back of the car properly, was on. I pulled over a few doors down from my own house. When I  hopped out to slam down the errant hatch, I saw that my young neighbor Gregoire was playing in his front yard.

"Hi Laurel. " he greeted me. "I've got a soccer game!"

I acknowledged the importance of this event in his young life properly.

"Where are you going?"

Gregoire has recently turned seven. Erasmus wasn't kidding with that age-of-awareness stuff. Greg has suddenly become conscious that the world doesn't actually revolve around his doings, and he's curious about it.

"I've driving to a sewing class."

Gregoire was silent for a long moment. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, at the thought that I was heading cheerily, perhaps voluntarily, off to a class on a Sunday afternoon.

"Do you like that?", he finally asked.

"Greg," I answered, "I feel about sewing classes like you feel about playing soccer."

There was another lengthy pause.

"Have fun at your class," he responded in a decided manner.

I drove off down the road, feeling sure that Gregoire had greatly enlarged his view of the social complexities of the world.

Olive Another My Dear

It turns out that the public community 

Cañada College, where I take my programming classes and native plants class* was built on the site of an old olive ranch. Ain't that just so terribly historical California like? Golly how romantic, unless mebbe the workers were getting the shaft. Let's hope not... then we can peruse the romantic images. 

* That's the one to give me a break from the programming classes except that there's a bunch of home time stuff I want to do now for that too. And yes there are about 6 hours of in class time/week, so it's not just about heading in for a party amongst the manzanita once a week