This fall a rather unusual collision of events took place. The Critter Almanac came out in October with its annual winter outlook forecast. In the past the forecast was developed by throwing darts at a cork board full of post-it notes with various weather conditions written on them. Once every hundreds years or so, it turns out to be accurate due to plain dumb luck. The editor finally grew tired of all the bad weather jokes readers sent her every year making fun of the forecast. She wisely hired my cousin Vinnie with his quantum super computer to model the weather for the next few months. Vinnie is forecasting an unusually cold winter. His computer model predicted ice on the pond by Thanksgiving with nights dipping into the 20s. So far, his forecast is spot on.
In other news, home burrow heating fuels are forecasted to rise by 50% or more in cost over the winter. The two different forecasts sent Woodpile families scurrying to find ways to save on heating costs. Many critter families are considering going back to the ancient traditional practice of hibernation. With all our modern conveniences we had almost outgrown the need for this practice. Looking over old history books, it appears our ancestors used to snuggle up in piles of dry leaves to hibernate in their burrows. I tried doing this once on a survival weekend, and I shivered all night.
The Woodpile Council decided to offer a 10,000 seed award to a critter who could find a practical solution to the problem. Mr. Weaver got up and spoke at the Council meeting. He said “Back in the my day, ‘munks didn’t have central heating and all of these other conveniences. We were a lot tougher back then. In my youth I worked in my grandfather’s factory making sleeping bags from the finest merino wool. We were warm and cozy all winter. I am going to my shop to make one and you can see for yourself.”
Old man Weaver hand knitted a sleeping bag in about two days. He hasn’t lost his touch. The secret to a successful sleeping bag is the hand rubbed sunflower oil coating they receive.
It takes several dozen seeds for each sleeping bag. Mr. Weaver was trying to teach his grandson this traditional craft. However, his grandson preferred computer games to hands on work.
The grandson tried to finish up the oiling quickly so he could go back to his games.
But Old man Weaver found a spot not properly oiled so it was back to work.
The Woodpile Council dropped by for an inspection.
The thermometer is reading 40 degrees warmer on the inside!
Looks like it passed with flying stripes. Council hands out the award, and folks lined up to place orders.
After the crowd left, the grandson felt there was something not quite right. The more he thought about it, the more he realized the natural gray wool color was so out-dated.
The grandson went to the yarn store and bought yellow and purple, his high school’s colors.
He had seen his grandfather hand knit these sleeping bags with ease. But he quickly discovered there was a lot of skill to it … and well there was a difference between watching and doing. His first attempt was a total disaster.
Feeling a bit dejected he pondered his next move.
Old man Weaver went looking for his grandson who was late for dinner. He went to the shop and his eye’s look like they are going to popped out of his head when he saw that colored yarn. What a disgrace, dyed yarn in his shop, never!
His grandson came out from behind the yarn and confessed he was the one who bought the colored yarn and explained he wanted do something a bit more trendy but it turned out to be a disaster.
Old man Weaver finally realized he had a rare opportunity to pass along the traditional craft if he was willing to allow his grandson to create a new tradition: colored sleeping bags.
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