the blatant window shade

Two blocks up from these giraffes is the downtown thrift store.  Which is where I am, searching for a 55 1/4″ roller shade. The plan is to combine the  outside of my broken shade (the beauty currently dangling from my bedroom window) with the good insides of a used roller from the thrift store. I can hear my grandmother’s voice from the 1960’s: This is how to flatten out a dime.

Hewhomends is sorting through the barrels of shower rods, curtain rods, and dimensional lumber. He’s the one with faith in this project and yet he doesn’t plan ahead. I am in the tool aisle, asking: Will we need one of these things? (roofing hammer in hand); Do we need this? (yard stick from a hardware store that bankrupted in 1963) when the blatant truth hits me:  I have faith only when I plan ahead.

When the time comes to find what we need–any sort of screwdriver, manna from heaven, twine for making loops–he trusts more than I do. Even if I do have the basics in my life, my ability to locate said basics is questionable. If the project requires me to find an illustrated copy of Rock-hounding in Montana, or the latest translation of Madame Bovary,  I’m on it. Found and served in 3.2 seconds. Pen and journal? No problem. But the items he assumes basic in any household? I can hear him now: What do you mean you can’t find your sheet rock screws?


About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website:

2 responses to “the blatant window shade

  1. Absolutely hilarious LOL. People don’t realise the sacrifices made by poets. Now where’s that ……………

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