A Chest, Full of Metals

 

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Americans of a certain age will remember this guy. Mark Spitz won an unprecedented 7 gold medals at the 1972 Olympics. And showed them off nicely!

I’ve never won an Olympic medal of any color. But I am a medalist in my own right. Or should I say a metalist?

I have a chestful of my own metals, more precious to me, not to mention more useful, than Mark’s. (And I’m wearing a shirt. You’re welcome.)

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I’ve been thinking for a while about collecting every pair of scissors in the house, just for chuckles. Like most of you, I probably have more than I need and, in spite of that, I seem never to find a pair when and where I need them.

I have taken to wearing a small pair around my neck and have many of them on handwoven ribbons. They are sharp and pointy and it still took me too long this winter to figure out why all my knit shirts had a hole in the middle of the front . . . 

A friend solved my problem with a length of tubing that I cut to fit every single pair of the small scissors!

So, in all, in one household of two people, we have at least 27 pairs of scissors.

We have the kind-of-crappy-yet-useful scissors with the plastic handles of many colors.

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We have the “good” scissors, the kind my mother used to threaten us kids never to use on anything but fabric.

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And we have my favorite small scissors, all pretty and many of them “good,” with a nice representation of storks.

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If I count right, that’s 27. Then there are the ones that turned up as soon as I finished taking the photos, and the ones that will turn up tomorrow . . .

And, as evidence that great minds really do think alike, Margaret recently posted about her collection of scissors—her collection is impressive!

Are you sitting there thinking, “I could top that!”? Go ahead. Write your own post and prove it!