The tanbark issue

There is a great tradition of humans taking what they feels others don’t really need, for both good and bad purposes. The stealing of copper wires, for example, is a thriving industy of its own, as many a disgruntled train commuter has discovered to their dismay when their service is brought to a shuddering halt by the fact that all that lovely, very expensive copper wire has been removed from the overhead train lines by thieves in the night.

Then there is the tradition of gleaning. This ancient version of food gathering has long been practiced, with benevelant landlords setting aside one day for the local poor to forage in their fields and take away the vegetables that had not been considered worth while harvesting. A bell would be rung on the morning of the day set aside, to let the gleaners know when they could begin, and another bell would be rung in the evening to end the days work.

So I’m still trying to figure out which of the two Grumbles is doing when she brings home her daily quota of tanbark from school, cleverly hidden in cuffs of pants, bottom of shoes and stuck both inside and outside of socks. Is there some desperate tanbark shortage ahead that she is stockpiling for?

Thank goodness it’s school holidays, if only to save my poor back from sweeping the darn mess up!


Liesl  – (5:01 pm)  

My boys have been smuggling home sand. Perhaps we could set up an illicit garden centre?

Tas  – (5:43 pm)  

Oh Liesl. Don't remind me. What amazes me is, even in a dress with no pockets, how much sand and other bits and pieces can be accummulated and seem to stick persistantly to the clothing outside, only to drop spontaneously over the carpet as soon as the child comes indoors.

Mel.J  – (6:12 pm)  

I was incredibly appreciative of my 4yo who said casually one day - Mum where's my grey dress, I want to get the sand out of the pocket before it goes in the washing machine. I was about to wash said dress, went outside & and emptied at least a cup of sand from the pocket. She has the tanbark habit, and also brings home many rocks and gravel bits, which are treasure and must be kept (sigh.)

Evelyne  – (8:42 pm)  

I remember having to dust the kids down before entering the front door - ah, those were the days!!!!!

Another Sewing Scientist  – (3:53 am)  

Bwa ha ha! I know what you mean, because my kids' daycare is surrounded by a sandlot, and every year we parents have to go and spread another 100 bags of sand. Where does it all go? Pant cuffs, pockets, shoes, and ultimately my washing machine.

nic  – (12:20 pm)  

methinks this would make great garden mulch. send her with bigger cuffs, i say!

Fer  – (4:19 pm)  

Ugh! Playground tan bark..... What also amazes me is how they can't feel it inside their shoes - it would drive me batty!

Leonie  – (9:13 pm)  

We get sand. Sand from school, sand from kinder and sand from childcare. We have a tree in a pot at the front door and the kids aren't allowed inside until they have emptied their shoes into it!

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