The idea of actually sitting down, braiding onions was actually a welcome one.
Though I was sweating profusely, I was determined to put fourth and effort. Even if it looked like something a preschooler did, I didn't care.
Apparently I have some kind of throw-back knowlege in my DNA. I had no prior knowlege but my hands instinctlively seemed to know what to do. I just went with it. I trusted the flow and what appeared to be cellular intelligence beyond my ability to comprehend (and I liked it very much!) I imagined what it would like to have been an Indian woman braiding wild onions for her relatives for winter stew. I don't know why but it seems my mind usually goes "native".
Wherever the origin or the knowledge came from, it was welcome. We have several nice sets of braids. Weeding early and often and mulching paid off. I do love a successful harvest!