More Thoughts of Father
This morning I'm thinking of my dad and my needles.
When I was a teen I started to get interested in cactus plants. Somehow I acquired a big old cactus from out West, the kind that makes big, round, fleshy leaves, joined one to another to make the plant. The needles on this plant are long and thin and very sharp.
Our garage was in the basement of the house, a basement which was large and airy with sunshine coming in through the windows above eye level. It was a good place to keep houseplants in their off season from out doors. That's where my big cactus was, on the driver's side of the car, and near the wall where the sunlight came through the window.
Some days my dad drove me to school on his way to work. Our local school only went to 9th grade and I went into town for my high school education. We were issued bus passes to ride the "town bus" for transportation but I loved the times that Daddy drove me to town.
One day when Dad left me off in front of the school and I waved good-bye, before I turned to walk into the school, I saw that the car, a Willys Jeep, gave a sudden leap before it went smoothly on its way down the street. I wondered what had happened. It wasn't till we were home again after school that I learned that Dad had brushed against my cactus that morning and didn't realize that he picked up a needle in his clothing. Just as he engaged the clutch as he was pulling away from the curb that morning, the needle made itself known. Ouch! He reacted and the car lurched. We both had a good laugh over that, in spite of the ouch.
The other needle was one I accidentally left in his favorite tilt back chair. I had been sitting there when I was embroidering. I poked the needle into the chair while I looked for the change of thread, then I either couldn't see where I put or, or forgot all about it as I finished up for that session. Dad found that needle when he sat down. That's when I learned to not be careless about where I put my embroidery needle.
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