Saturday, February 6, 2010

Close Knit


In fifth grade, my friends and I had a midpoint where we would stop to warm up on walks to school. A gaggle of us walked the half mile (no, not uphill both ways, but yes, in the snow) to Mann Elementary huddling for warmth before the crossing guard bid us across the street.

Jocelyn's house was cozy. In fact, we stayed long enough to get beyond warm to hot and then went back out in the chill. It didn't feel so bad then, and school was in sight before we felt the urge to huddle again.

It's a cold morning walk still. I have several scarves and hats for different temperatures, but my favorite ensemble is one my mom made for me: an extra long, heavy duty, hand knit pink scarf with fringe and a matching skull cap. From under the winter armor, only my eyes peer forth and barely. (I confess I've walked with my eyes closed down Wabash many times, even counting the paces.)

I don't know how to knit but I'm grateful my mom does. I love my scarf that wraps around my neck three or four times before it's run out of yarn. It's my size: big. I also don't know much about cooking, other than I know what I like and want to be able to provide the same bounty of meals my mom did for my kid/s some day. I have less time to cook now than I ever have. . . and that may not change.

I don't know how to sew, nor do I know much about the best cleaning products. I've somehow lost touch with any form of domestication and I'm not happy about it. I have my mom's generation to thank for liberation, and prefer to read or work though I do fancy organizing. I'm not hard on myself about these things, but I do lament that the penchant isn't present. If it was in me, it wouldn't get lost as the genes and personalities are passed down to the next generation.

I suppose instead of knitting or darning or soup-making, I will teach my daughter how to write a resume and work with her strengths; how to ask for help and give too; how to tell the truth about who she is and hope she learns how to sit quietly better than me. Though probably not until well past puberty.

Mind you, I still haven't given up on making good soup, stews and sandwiches. But my time for learning will have to wait, hopefully not until it's too late.

1 comment:

  1. Mama sock, baby sock. :)

    Friend, I feel you. Time is not available to do or learn all the things that realy should just be average bear stuff.

    I have a blanket I've meant to finish crocheting for oh, say, 2 years. I have books I want to start reading which sit in a pile (including one entitled "Getting Things Done" - oh the irony!).

    That said - you're putting it out there, and in time, you will find the time to do these things. It's never to late to be domestic, that's fo' sho!

    xo

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