Dish Cloths: The Serial
One of my friends and I emailed brief missives for most of a week under the subject heading, “dish cloths.” Under “dish cloths,” we discussed Puritan theology, homekeeping, the ironies of “free” kittens and goldfish, health, why incredibly necessary things like kitchen stools that have seats and backs are all but impossible to find; and even occasional forays into the ambit of knitting dishcloths. (I spell it as one word, she as two.) Knitted dishcloths became a metaphor for practical, handy objects that spend much of their time in rather a limp state, and often outlive their attractiveness. But no metaphor holds up indefinitely.
As for the proverbial dishcloth thread: It is the mortar of fellowship: it makes the heart merry and cheers the countenance (Proverbs 15:13). Dishcloth threads lighten the eyes, cause the heart to rejoice, and fatten the bones (Proverbs 15:30). Once in a while, a dishcloth thread contains that word fitly spoken that is like apples of gold in pictures of silver (Proverbs 25:11).
Other cheery matters well beyond the prosaic pale include the arrival of new sneakers, and evidence that a week of antibiotics has begun to kick a dent in a sinus infection I have grown tired of hosting (it needs to read Proverbs 25:17). Also, a major decision confronts me: whether to replace my hair’s rapidly vanishing color, or somehow become very wise, fast. It’s also the case that I have noticed lately that my hair appears to have been cut by someone wearing mittens. All notwithstanding, I do hope to post something by Gordon Clark on ethics soon.