Giant ball of twine!
As a young boy, I was fascinated by the several skeins of twine my father had in the garage. It was coarse string, dark brown in color, and it seems limitless in its possibility – what could we make with it today? Maybe a garland? Perhaps some rope to fashion a ladder going up to the treehouse we would some day build? Truly, that twine was like a blank canvas, its gentle winding curves an invitation to childhood daydreams.
But this ball of twine – forget it! This is too much. If my father had one of these in the garage, I think the emotions I would have felt would have been more akin to fear than wonder.