The princess and her friends are street walkers. Ye of evil mind may disabuse yourself of the notion that they are doing anything naughty. They are fitness walkers who choose the streets of our village over the treadmill, the Tow Path and local parks. Me, I have a "the world is too much with us" attitude that keeps me off the streets. I prefer quieter places where evidence of human presence is kept to a minimum. The princess is gregarious, ebullient and full of fun. She loves the hurly-burly of main street and its denizens--the latte sipping, Italian lingerie buying Dual Income No Kids, the well-heeled empty nesters, the local shakers and movers. She has a great imagination and she can spin a story from the most tenuous details. For example, she sees a hibachi, unopened bags of Easter grass, clean, brand new skeins of yarn and she constructs domestic drama--a girlfriend tossed out of the house, a jilted boyfriend too wounded to face the remains of shared happiness long gone. I get the yarn from the streets because the princess knows I can use it to knit and crochet caps for oncology patients and preemies. I also get a lesson on the many advantages of streetwalking--close yourself in and you gain in quiet; join the streewalkers and all manner of goods and stories fall at your feet.


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