While there has been a plethora of knitting and other endeavors going on, the blogging has fallen a bit by the wayside.
In the next few weeks, there will be a half-dozen or more new patterns coming out. Yay!
Web design is also in the not too distant future to make this place a bit easier (as in mo' betta) to navigate, as well as showcase, not only the knitting designs, but bag designs!
Further, in my previous blog incarnations, there were lots of fun little stories, tales of the day, so to speak. While a knitting blog, I am giving myself permission to share those, too. Just because I want to.
As a younger woman, one of my primary objectives in life was to prove to all and sundry that there was nothing I could not do. The essential message was that I was not only capable, but in charge, in that personal autonomy kind of way. I hated, as in loathed, despised, and detested for anyone to tell me what to do.
Of course, in the last two ::cough:: or more decades, I have mellowed considerably. So much so, I have taken the time to look around and to begin to appreciate have far off the mark I have actually been in my modus operandi of life navigation.
The wife of a very good friend of mine from law school is the epitome of what I should have done and how I should have gone about it, if I had had a brain way back in the day. She is attractive, intelligent, funny, sexy, and charming. Most importantly, while she is quite confident in her abilities, she has no desire to prove to anyone that there is nothing she cannot do. She is far more content to have people do for her.
I have been so taken with the thought, once the light went on and the concept finally registered, I have held her up to my daughters as an example of what I want to be when I ultimately grow up: I woman perfectly and quietly confident in herself to allow others to fetch and carry for her.
Apparently, at least one of my children has learned this well.
Yesterday, the girls and I were out and about on a mission to score some bubble tea. The older daughter begins college at UT in Austin shortly (nineteen days until she is deposited into a dorm, but who is counting). We were discussing the relative proximity of her dorm to her classes and the time she would have to get from point A to point B, when I asked if we needed to buy her a bicycle.
"Well," she said, "the roommate and I were discussing this. Instead of new bikes, we want ugly clunkers that no one would want to steal."
They had a point, so I offered a pair of mountain bikes my father purchased fifteen or twenty years ago that somehow (Thanks, Mom!) ended up in my attic. One is a Schwinn and the other is a Raleigh.
Once we got home, she pulled them out of the attic to take a better look at them. Certain the tires were dry-rotted, I offered to give her up to a $100 to take one of them to a local bike shop and get it up and running. The roommate was welcome to the other, but its repair would be on her dime. My thought was the money was a lot less than I would spend buying her a new one.
She laughed at me.
"Why take them to a shop?" She asked.
"How else are you going to get them working?"
"Oh, Mommy, you are so funny. I texted "X" (a.k.a "Mr. Triathelete"). He's going to come by in a little while to check them out."
A short time later, X arrived and promptly pumped air into the tires and the kids took the bikes for a dry run. The Raleigh needs a new brake cable and a bit of bike lube, but it is good to go. The Schwinn needs new tubes and tires. She hit me up for some cash and gave it to X.
He is supposed to return this afternoon to switch out the brake cables and replace the tubes and tires on both bikes.
We offered him some cash for his efforts and he smiled: "Now, I wouldn't be doing you a favor, if I accepted something in return."
So here we are, $60 to repair both bikes, instead of the $100 I was willing to throw at one of them, we did not have to take them anywhere, we did not have to go any where to buy parts, and everything has been taken care of.
How the hell did she manage that?
Yeah, I missed something, somewhere on this road of life. I have been short-changed somehow.
I just know two things: 1) I really don't need to worry about the older daughter, it is apparent she can take care of herself or find someone willing to do it for her; and 2) That young man will have a pile of freshly baked homemade cookies when he returns this afternoon.
Have a great day!