Goose-stepping neighbors in Ohio Seriously, not a lot happens while trapped in Ohio with a nasty little virus on the loose. Fortunately, there are hints that it might be letting up. Who knows? It could be the calm before the storm, but I don't want to think about that possibility. Now with Ohio in full summer sunshine mode, with beautiful blue skies, I left the quarantine of my office computer and my twelfth children's book to have a picnic lunch with one of my friends. It's always good to meet up with Tommy. He's always interested in my books, since he inspired the first one I wrote.
We met outside at a local park. Not so many people were there in the middle of the week, but we were surrounded by Canadian geese. I don't really know how they got that name. They always seem to be in Ohio. In my neighborhood, it isn't unusual to have traffic blocked up temporarily as a small army of geese - instead of chickens - cross the road to get to the other side.
There usually aren't any big surprises when talking to long-time friends. It's very comfortable with Tommy, every time I see him. It's just a matter of "pickup up where we left off", just like it should be with long-time friends. And, he's one of my longest-time friends.
But, on this picnic, Tommy shocked me.
We met outside at a local park. Not so many people were there in the middle of the week, but we were surrounded by Canadian geese. I don't really know how they got that name. They always seem to be in Ohio. In my neighborhood, it isn't unusual to have traffic blocked up temporarily as a small army of geese - instead of chickens - cross the road to get to the other side.
There usually aren't any big surprises when talking to long-time friends. It's very comfortable with Tommy, every time I see him. It's just a matter of "pickup up where we left off", just like it should be with long-time friends. And, he's one of my longest-time friends.
But, on this picnic, Tommy shocked me.
A happy telephone pole, image from WOSU public media video He lives in Clintonville. It's one of the older, leafy, established neighborhood of Columbus that dates back to the 1880s. There are parks, unique cafes, gastropubs, trendy shops, and lots of families with a lot more children. There are a couple of main streets, including High Street, but Clintonville has a lot of old houses, older trees, and deer that like to live along the Olentangy River and the ravine that runs through the city. People who meticulously tend to their yards may not like the deer. I've heard them described as "rats with antlers". But, I'd rather have deer than geese, and I like geese.
Anyway, Tommy shocked me when he mentioned the random acts that were taking place in Clintonville. I've heard of Random Acts of Violence. Nobody wants them in Clintonville or anywhere else. And, as far as I know, that isn't something that normally happens in this neighborhood. I've also heard of Random Acts of Kindness. That should happen in Clintonville, across Buckeye Nation, to the furthest reaches of our shores, and beyond our borders. Everyone should practice this form of kindness. And, that had me wondering, when was the last time I did something unexpectedly kind? And, even more importantly, when is the next time I am going to be so thoughtfully random? How soon? Well, as soon as possible.
But, these are not the kinds of acts to shock me. Nope, since 2016, Clintonville has had untold numbers of incidences with Random Acts of Knitting. I kid you (k)not! There is some serious guerilla needlework taking place on the streets of Clintonville, under the cover of night. Who knew? Seriously, how could this be going on for five years and this is the first I've heard about it?
Like I said, I spend too much time in my office at my computer monitor. Way too much time.
Anyway, Tommy shocked me when he mentioned the random acts that were taking place in Clintonville. I've heard of Random Acts of Violence. Nobody wants them in Clintonville or anywhere else. And, as far as I know, that isn't something that normally happens in this neighborhood. I've also heard of Random Acts of Kindness. That should happen in Clintonville, across Buckeye Nation, to the furthest reaches of our shores, and beyond our borders. Everyone should practice this form of kindness. And, that had me wondering, when was the last time I did something unexpectedly kind? And, even more importantly, when is the next time I am going to be so thoughtfully random? How soon? Well, as soon as possible.
But, these are not the kinds of acts to shock me. Nope, since 2016, Clintonville has had untold numbers of incidences with Random Acts of Knitting. I kid you (k)not! There is some serious guerilla needlework taking place on the streets of Clintonville, under the cover of night. Who knew? Seriously, how could this be going on for five years and this is the first I've heard about it?
Like I said, I spend too much time in my office at my computer monitor. Way too much time.
Christmas Nutcrackers by way of the WOSU public media video What exactly is a Random Act of Knitting? Under cover of darkness in the wee hours of the morning, a civilly disobedient citizen is splashing colorful yarn creations on unsuspecting light poles, fire hydrants, tree trunks, columns, statues and even a boulder. It could be red and white hearts on Valentine's Day, or a Christmas nutcracker, Leprechaun hats or whatever strikes the whimsical fancy of the Yarn Bomber. Locations along High Street were some of the original target spots. But, as word on the street and on social media grew, so did the projects.
A Facebook page popped up where acts of yarn bombing can be commissioned (and you should check that link). In an anonymous interview, the Yarn Bomber stated that originally it wasn't too hard to go to High Street at 5:00 in the morning with coffee in one hand and yarn in the other to decorate a light pole. But, when commissioned bombings required creeping around someone's yard in the darkness of night, a miner's cap with lighting was required. (I mean, honestly, you still need to have a hand free for morning coffee!)
The Yarn Bomber claims that she isn't nearly as exciting as people might think. She's a woman in her fifties who lives in Clintonville. Maybe she's just a little intimidated by her grandmother's legacy. Granny taught the bomber her yarning skills when she was just a kid of eight. Her granny was nothing like mine. Now, I know my grandmother could knit and crochet. But, when your granny was a flapper in the 1920s, it might very well inspire the spirit of civil disobedience required for yarn bombing. My dear old grandmother was no flapper and she would absolutely spin in her grave if I tried something like this. I'm pretty sure that ex-flapper granny is beaming with pride.
Sad to say, there are grinches in Whoville, Clintonville, and a whole lot of other places on the planet. We don't have to name names. We all know who they are. And, some of these grinches have actually complained to the city about the yarn bombings. When complaints are received, the city sends in the bomb squad to dismantle the instillation. I, personally, would love to see the homes of these grinches totally yarn bombed. Imagine not being able to open your front door because the entire house was wrapped up in a yarn bomb. I know, it would be too much work for one civilly disobedient yarn bomber. But, it would be simply awesome!
A Facebook page popped up where acts of yarn bombing can be commissioned (and you should check that link). In an anonymous interview, the Yarn Bomber stated that originally it wasn't too hard to go to High Street at 5:00 in the morning with coffee in one hand and yarn in the other to decorate a light pole. But, when commissioned bombings required creeping around someone's yard in the darkness of night, a miner's cap with lighting was required. (I mean, honestly, you still need to have a hand free for morning coffee!)
The Yarn Bomber claims that she isn't nearly as exciting as people might think. She's a woman in her fifties who lives in Clintonville. Maybe she's just a little intimidated by her grandmother's legacy. Granny taught the bomber her yarning skills when she was just a kid of eight. Her granny was nothing like mine. Now, I know my grandmother could knit and crochet. But, when your granny was a flapper in the 1920s, it might very well inspire the spirit of civil disobedience required for yarn bombing. My dear old grandmother was no flapper and she would absolutely spin in her grave if I tried something like this. I'm pretty sure that ex-flapper granny is beaming with pride.
Sad to say, there are grinches in Whoville, Clintonville, and a whole lot of other places on the planet. We don't have to name names. We all know who they are. And, some of these grinches have actually complained to the city about the yarn bombings. When complaints are received, the city sends in the bomb squad to dismantle the instillation. I, personally, would love to see the homes of these grinches totally yarn bombed. Imagine not being able to open your front door because the entire house was wrapped up in a yarn bomb. I know, it would be too much work for one civilly disobedient yarn bomber. But, it would be simply awesome!
It isn't clear if the yarn bombing has rubbed off on any other civilly disobedient knitters in Clintonville. It would be wonderful if these random acts spread further across the neighborhood and beyond. If you have any inclination to mischievous needlework and need some further inspiration, you may enjoy this WOSU video about Clintonville's Yarn Bomber. So, if you are looking for something to do to brighten up your summer, think about some random acts. If your fingers just won't cooperate with you and you simply can't do Random Acts of Knitting, you can always do Random Acts of Kindness. Even grinches shouldn't be able to complain about that.
Silly Wabbit and Easter cheer by way of the WOSU public media video
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