Day 14 of Harvest

 

I've been looking for a really good bucket, my whole life I'm seeing now. 

Let me spin you a story of a home makers life, of peace and tranquility making things beautiful and right. To do such a things constitutes hard work and discipline sometimes things scheduled sometimes though a strangers knocks your door and when you open it your are shocked and upheaval mayhaps. Home makers keep their house and home in order for when the knock comes they are prepared for the stranger. To keep a home in good order a home makers bucket is as important a tool as is her broom. My broom is another story as it stands vigilant, a guardian and keeps the tack from beneath our feet as We sweep the trash into piles and throw it away. 

The bucket has to be sturdy obviously no holes; the handle though is of much importance to be strong enough to carry a heavy weight and tight to not slip and not cause a dilemma. Often the heavy weight is the water with which we clean and make things not dirty and bright, nooks and crannies here and there, corners, window seals, behind doors and more. 

Every hardware story I pursued their collections of buckets, one side of the handle always unhooked from their hook; so I moved on and left them behind, because a tool that doesn't work is going to cause a mess and I enjoy efficiency for it allows me more time for learning, I love learning, also crafting, but not the kind of craft you find at a fair, you know the one; no larpers allowed, I don't enjoy wasting my time.

Then one day not long ago, a few months in true no more than a year or two I came across a bucket in line with the others. I hardly pass by a bucket in order so to the handle I go and lift with wonder and delight as I shake it a bit to see if it's right. Not a jiggle was found. I leaned in with delight as just one sticker I would have to remove from this bucket I would use to make my home just right.

When I arrived home with my tool I was saddened to see it was not a sticker for me as it was emblazoned 

Libman

so alas I was sored for this household name was not the cause of my dislike, the cause of my dislike is advertisements in my face. Most things that have their names tattooed I often find it's to hide in plain site and in turn become a house hold name with no right, from old bags to new bags, shoes, clothes, and more, now it looks like buckets that must prove themselves to also not be whores. (lol, funniest thing, this is a True story with a capital T, and a crossed one too.)

Different days it would be, for different means too, I would fill up that bucket to clean and more as its name emblazoned never for me to ignore. On my hands and knees I would scrub and polish working towards perfection as I would lift by it's handle so to dump muck and grime mixed with water down the toilet into the sewer it'd go and sometimes even out the back door. 

Then one day it happened... there I was with work to be done, important matters at hand, not foolery and fun. My Libman bucket filled the right amount I lift the bright green handle of the bucket emblazed with Pride as it slipped from its left hook no longer a tight match the handle had come undone. 

Now truth be told there it was another trash tool branded that has no business being in a household if it's handle to the bucket comes loose grime dirt and muck will spill out and a waste of time is made. 

So I hunt and I look as I make my way, gathering here and there the tools of my trade, a home maker anywhere.

 

 if your name is good you don't need to glue it

people will know