had I three ears

Yet again I found myself stuck in bed with a non-serious but incapacitating illness, taking up a new occupation to distract myself. Heat rash had me laying on ice packs for several days. With my scissors and some discarded jeans nearby, I started making a braided rug.

In the many hours this task kept my hands away from scratching, I thought of the 3 Fates, or the 3 Norns, or the 3 Weird Sisters, triplet hags who spin and weave the fortunes of men. As I cut and braided and cut and braided I pondered my fate. How had I gotten here, with this rash, my ass kicked from a camp teaching job? Where will I go next, after this, my 60th or so job in a long line of eclectic temporary jobs? Am I getting too old for all these strange employments? Will I ever not be poor? Will my need to do only work that has "meaning" always be the curse I was once told it would be?

But as I keep spiraling and sewing this continuous stormy sea-colored braid outward, I think I must be on the right road, no matter how rocky and twisting it persists on being. I cannot live as a straight path walker. The rash I thought would never go away finally did. Some new unexpected prospects are poking up around the next bend. I'll soon have a very nice denim rug on which to rest my investigating feet.

This rug is easy to make. Cut up your old jeans into 2 inch strips (making turns at top and bottom for longer strips) then braid, joining new strips in by tucking them into the braid. Then spiral the braid around, stitching the sides of the braids together. Keep it flat when sewing, wet it down to flatten more now and then as you go along.

Photos below: strips are a joy to cut with good Gingher sicissors; the spinning Norns at the foot of the tree of the world; and my heat rashed back (sparing you the full hideousness by removing the color).