“Oy Vey,” meaning, “Oh Wow, what a bummer!”

Notes from Alexis: Winter takes over, syndicated columns take over writing, and spinning out of control comes in more than one way.

1-04-85

Dearest Lex,

Wow, I could see you so clearly in your pickup on the ice, then the other cars coming for you. I once {in a totally safe situation) did a brodie on ice, and I know how powerless you feel. When it happened to me, B.B. from across the street  was watching and laughing. He thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen, and I had to suffer his humor because he pulled me out of the ditch.

The frost has frozen thick on all the trees and we look like Nome, Alaska, but it is  beautiful and cold, with no new snow. We do have about a foot on the ground.

Well, onward. A young girl has been coming over and buying yarn and talking to me about weaving and spinning, her name is E. She called me the other night and said she wanted to come to look at yarn, so I said okay, thinking she would be twenty or thirty minutes. She was here in five, and then it seems she wanted me to show her my Wilhelmi spinning wheel, which was down at M.’s. So we went and got it, and then she wanted me to give her a spinning lesson. She left at nine and I hadn’t eaten since noon. I was shaking and couldn’t eat anything, but toast and coffee.

All the time she was here she would sigh these great wracking sighs, up from her toes and say, “Oy vey” – which is Hebrew meaning “Oh wow, what a bummer man!” She took the wheel with her, and I really don’t know if I taught her to spin, but I sure picked up sighing, and ever since have been going around thinking, “Oy vey.”

I don’t care how slow or how fast you run the marketing end of the business. I fervently hope I never have to think about the business end of the business. I want to think about writing, and I want to not think about the other.

There is no communication between me and the neighbor J., about the column.  Even when we talk, our words slide by each other. It’s just like talking to a foreigner. Still, I like the idea of having the column in the local “Star” first. For one thing, he just prints whatever I hand him, since we had our little discussion. Then too, I love having people tell me they have read the column. S. told Dad she reads it, and sends it on to S.’s girls. Of course she hasn’t said anything to me.

A lady at the library saves me a paper each week, which has turned out to be a blessing. I used to be able to pick up 3 or 4 at the P0 Box, out of the waste basket, but no more. They are throwing them away at home, I guess.

Well, I’m going on to the library now, and from day one (1-1-85) I will have to start keeping travel logs, and expenses and accounts. I don’t know why they just don’t let writers and potters be exempt from everything. By the way, I love the things you enclose. They are like special gifts, and if I forget to mention them, don’t forget to send them.

Love,

Mom

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