Under the Same Sky

I can't believe I forgot to write about this! The problem with posting so seldom is that you get out of the habit of remembering the small weirdo moments, and those are the best parts.

After our yard sale on Saturday, we took a break and then came back to a garage full of tables with wet clothes heaped on them. They had gotten wet the day before, and there was no way we could put them away wet, so we were doing some sorting and hanging out to dry and folding and boxing and.. it was a real mess and I was so sorry to leave on Sunday morning before we got it all finished and my dad had to do it*. Most of the clothes were my niece's... people have donated a ton of stuff to her for trip fundraising, but some of it was ours. Anyway, not important.

*Evelyn woke up sick and we had to leave first thing in the morning, so as to keep her away from my grandfather.

We are sorting through clothes and this couple with a little boy walks over and asks about diapers. The man had been by earlier and purchased all of my remaining laundry detergent (seven bottles) so I kind of recognized him. I obligingly start rummaging around to find them a package of diapers because hey, it's a sale. Soon, I am finding myself digging through more boxes looking for makeup and more. The guy is hanging around outside the garage while I am dealing with his lady friend. She goes out once to get money or something and I turn to M and whisper, "she is so high." M did not agree with me at that time, but later caught a good glimpse of her eyes and saw where I was coming from. It wasn't so much that for me, though, just that she was totally operating on a very slightly different plane of existence. The best example of that was near the end (well after both of us had diagnosed her as stoned because this makes it pretty obvious), when I had been going through boxes all this time, and explaining to her about the rain causing us to close early, she suddenly looked around and said, "so are you guys closing up?"

Uh.. yeah. That's not the good part though!

She thought she was done after-sale shopping, but as she walked away, she saw a box full of pads sitting there and she got very excited about it. She sits down and starts digging through the box and asking about prices, etc.

LF: Do you have any tampons in here?
K: No, sorry.
LF: Oh, that's okay. I know how to make them myself.
K: ...
LF: Wow, that's such a good price. Wish you had tampons but yeah, I know how to make them myself anyway.
LF: From pads.
K: ... ahhh. *polite smile*
LF: I'll get two of these. Yeah, I learned how to make tampons from pads when I was in jail.
K: ahh. mmhmm..?
LJ: You know they only give you five pads a month when you're in jail? It's awful. That's not nearly enough to make it through one month! So we learned how to make our own tampons.
K: uh huh.. that is terrible..

So, yes. Got pads? Need tampons? No problem! She went over this several times, about how she made them from pads. I wish that I had asked her how but I was just frankly so shocked that I was having this conversation with this woman that I didn't know what to say. I assume it involves rolling..? Would you think that she added string to keep it all nice and tidy or.. ? And what of the adhesive? I don't know. I googled it but didn't find much info in the short amount of time I allowed this googling project. I did find, however, that she was telling the truth about the feminine necessities in prison. Appalling, actually. That is so totally a hygiene issue, not a luxury. Give the women some pads, guys.

Anyway. I think of myself as a reasonably crafty person, but apparently I am just not quite crafty enough for this to appeal, so you'll all be glad to know that I will not be opening my own Etsy shop founded on the pads-to-tampons principle.