tow trucks & extra stitches

The 90’s. The temperature around here was in the 90’s on Saturday. That may not seem hot in your neck of the woods, but let me tell you. Here? We pretty much melt.
Which means none of us move very fast.

We were especially not moving very fast because of this.

After 14 years of get-up-and-go, the old girl is spent. She’s at the doctor’s now. We’re nervously awaiting the prognosis.

Yet all that time spent sitting on the front porch waiting for the tow truck offered up time for something new.

So even though the wardrobe for the day was flip-flops, shorts and tank tops, Eleanor decided she needed a scarf. Her very first knitting project.

And just like the car, it went well for a while. And then, just like the car, it didn’t. Her straight rows of orderly stitches veered wide. Somehow, she’d added three extras. There were lots of tears. And a needle tossed around in frustration.

And as it happens so often, it was from a child’s experience that I gained perspective on my own.

I could see that the my car was broken. True. But I could also see that the breaking down had happened near to home, and no one was hurt, and that that sweet car had taken us places from the time Cole fit in an infant car seat until now, when he is eying the steering wheel hoping it will someday soon be his. All in all, this car and I have had a great ride.

And that during the long wait for the tow truck, I got to teach Eleanor something new. I got to teach her how to knit, yes. I got to teach her how to knit stitches together, also yes. But what I really got to teach her is that success does not equal perfection.

To be good at something, to have a great day, to feel accomplished, to say an experience was extraordinary doesn’t require flawlessness. It does require perseverance. And joy. And expectations that include wiggle room.

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