Thoughts on homemade versus store-bought

Last night the yarn lady had some friends over to the house.  She’d expected a few more people, but some were busy and some weren’t feeling well.  From Clem’s point of view it had been plenty of people.  People meant noise, which wasn’t good, but it also meant food, which was good.  There was always the chance that someone would drop some food on the floor and she could eat it if she got to it really quick.  She could also try jumping on the table, but the humans usually just put her on the floor quickly.  Since there weren’t as many people as she’d expected there would be leftovers.  The yarn lady always shared her leftovers with Clem.  She didn’t let her eat off her plate (at least with her knowledge), but she would put some down for Clem in a food bowl.  There was a yummy looking spinach dip that she had been dying to try, and her absolute favorite – carrot bread.  Some cats didn’t like vegetables, but Clem did, as long as they were mixed with something, like sour cream or butter, or apples and cinnamon.  Heavenly.

She had been banished to the garage for a while until she got too cold and asked loudly to be allowed to come back in.  She discovered why – they were all playing with beads.  Trays and bins and containers of beads.  Roly-poly beads that she was aching to dig her paws into.  Some were bright colors like a metallic rainbow; others were just silver or gold.  The ladies arranged them in rows and then stuck them on tiny sticks and twisted the ends.  Clem wondered what this all was for, and then she saw Luann stick one of the things she’d made through a teeny tiny hole in her ear and asked the others if they liked her earrings.  They didn’t look like rings to her, though.  They looked like sticks with beads on them.  Pretty, but not round at all. 

Luann diligently sorted through beads and found ones she liked and strung more of them on the sticks, until she had five identical pairs.  She announced that they were Christmas presents for people she worked with.  Clem thought about this – the television hadn’t said anything about making gifts for people.  It had commercials encouraging people to buy things, like earrings or other jewelry.  She hadn’t realized that you could make it yourself. 

Then again, the yarn lady made all sorts of things that could be bought in stores or on the internet.  She made scarves and afghans and booties (lots of booties) with her knitting.  She made decorations with paper, and now jewelry with beads.  She sewed stuff with fabric and fancy threads.  She baked cookies and bread and gave them away too.  For goodness sake, she made all the yarn balls.   As she thought more about this making things, she wondered why anyone would ever buy anything for a gift, if they could make things. 

But no one human could make everything that other people would want or need.  If the noisy girl wanted a book about anything other than cats for a gift, the yarn lady would need to buy that.  And no one person could make a television or computer or something like that, they had all sorts of parts and were put together by whole buildings full of people.  What about shoes?  Someone had to make them, but she didn’t know how.  She guessed there were times and places for store-bought gifts and homemade ones.  For example, the yarn lady couldn’t do woodworking, so if she were going to get Clem a Cat Library or some sort of climbing tree for Christmas she’d have to buy that. 

She pulled herself out of her reverie just in time to see everyone packing up the last of the beads.  They’d gone back into their containers, which all fit neatly into a big handled bag that the yarn lady said she’d found in someone’s discards.  Bummer.  She’d really looked forward to doing some beadwork herself, even if her version of beadwork involved batting them around the room rather than trying to fit them onto tiny little sticks without the benefit of thumbs.

Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/26652069@N07/3890472771