A couple of weeks ago while at the Riverfest celebration in Rock Creek I was wandering through the market and came to a table filled with First Nations crafts.
It was the spot where Johnny Gibot and his wife had set up their wares. Riverfest organizer Pat Pownall had told me that Gibot had been invited to the event to bless the Kettle River and do some ceremonial drumming as well as having the market table.
As I approached his table he was walking, stick in his hand, toward a drum. I assumed he was about to do some of the drumming and quickly introduced myself and said I’d like to talk to him after he finished with the ceremony.
“You can go ahead and ask your questions now,” he said. “I was only going to make some noise with the drum to call my wife back from the other side of the market.”
Another market I attended recently was at Lions Park in Greenwood for Founder’s Day. Margaret Webber was there – just a few days short of her 95th birthday – with not one, but three tables filled with items she had sewn.
If Johnny Gibot was in charge of dry humour, them Margaret Webber had the dry goods nailed down.
She explained that she looked after her husband in their home for a number of years before he passed on and that one day when they were sitting in the living room he suggested she go to the other room and get her sewing machine so she’d have something to keep busy with.
This woman hasn’t stopped sewing yet, and her tables were overflowing with all kinds of items – from the very, very practical to some which were down-right whimsical.
Into the practical column fell a microwave baked potato bag that I was quick to pick up.
Special K and I have a granddaughter who is going to have a baby in a few months so when I saw what looked like baby clothes on Margaret’s table I headed right for that pile of merchandise. She noticed how eager I was to see what was there, and came over to show me something on the whimsical side of the ledger.
What I had taken for baby clothes was actually a pile of miniature girdles with the bottom of the legs sewn shut to make a cute trash container for the car. They had little garter snaps, frilly lace and a bit of poetry attached:
“If you have litter in your car, don’t throw it out wherever you are. Make this garter fat and plump, then find a proper place to dump.”
I knew it wouldn’t work for the new baby, but when Margaret insisted I take one for the car I couldn’t refuse. I gave it to Special K – who loved it.
I thought it would be in the car the next time I saw it. Instead Special K put it on her walker. She was impressed with how well the legs worked to hold water bottles – so she had a cup carrier of sorts.
For the next part of the story we must return to the Rock Creek Market where Special K and I were enjoying Riverfest. At one point I asked if she had any cash because I saw a book I wanted to buy. When she reached for her girdle/cup carrier/spare change purse the frilly little thing came loose and fell to the ground.
And that is the story of how Special K dropped her unmentionables in the middle of the Rock Creek Market.