Made good progress on the Malabrigo I hadn’t expected to work on today, because I…
Took a good hard tumble this afternoon. Did a straight-forward splat on the carpet, bent my glasses, the item in my hands going flying ahead of me–
–and thought of my mom’s reaction.
My mother’s mother broke her hip when my mom was in college, and Mom, small-boned and thin, was always afraid of that happening to her. And so it was that one day, about 16 years ago, she was carrying one of my sister’s twin then-babies and found herself suddenly falling down the stairs she’d been heading down, her full focus on protecting that child from harm.
I can just picture him wanting to ask, Doozitagin? He was fine.
And Mom brushed herself off just jubilant: the baby was fine, and she hadn’t broken her hip! If it didn’t happen then it probably wasn’t ever going to–she was fine! Yay!
And at 81 now, she’s still fine.
I yelled for my Richard. He came.
My 6’8″ husband is incredibly tall when you’re looking up at him from the floor. He helped me up, I brushed myself off, whined a bit–sorry, Mom–and my balance seemed a little worse for the jolt. But hey.
Michelle told me, Mom, you need to sit down, put your feet up and KNIT!
Well, when you put it that way…