Sunday, 11 December 2011

Desk tops and knitting class

The year was 1952, the scene the third grade classroom in Holland.
Post-war Europe was more like a full employment version of the thirties than like Norman Rockwell North America.
As part of the regular curriculum girls were taught knitting, sewing by hand, darning socks, fixing holes in sweaters, and other skills indispensable to any housewife in the thirties. The boys got to do things with wood.

On the first day of knitting class we were given a ball of pale-green cotton yarn and shown how to cast on and "insteken, omslaan, doorhalen, af laten glijden" in other words make the four moves that constitute a knitting stitch.

I was utterly bewildered, especially by the part where one knitting needle dives underneath the other to pull the loop of yarn through.

After hours of strenuous effort I had produced a tangled mass of knots, black from my sweaty grimy little hands. We had a special teacher for needlework. The combined efforts of her and the classroom teacher could not unravel what I had wrought. They had never seen anything like it.

The state of my computer reminds me of that piece of work.
I often minimize something I am working on and come back to it later. I am always de-cluttering and re-cluttering.  As a Moon in Pisces with Venus in Virgo, I like order but tend to create chaos in my wake.  There is a blog brewing on ADD and the art of filing but that will have to wait.

What I want to know is: how in Pallas' name did I end up with a desktop folder inside the contact list that you get when you click contacts in the windows email program? C:\Users\Ien\Contacts\Desktop 2\Desktop
In retrospect a while ago my handy shortcuts had suddenly disappeared.I shrugged and made new ones. I will spare us the details but when I tried to get rid of the weird desktop things stopped working. 

It may be time for a refreshing reformat, but first I want to make sure my precious stuff is safely on a disk. There is no urgency, gardens first. But I do wonder how I did it.

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