This is a pic of a small all porcelain doll I made a good long time ago. I made the her clothes, back in the days when I could be bothered fiddling about doing heirloom sewing. Blue flames could sometimes be seen clouding my head while I worked in Heirloom sewing. Patience is a virtue I rather lack, at times. I purchased the little Battenburg work brolly, & have yet to fill her basket with flowers. Dolls took a back seat once I discovered the joys of quilting.
And this very nearsighted little Ted is a reject from yesterday's garage sales. He was sitting forlornly on a table all neglected, so he came home with me. I also scored several really good books for peanuts, so am looking forward to spending some good reading time. My first Bill Bryson, & I am told he is a good laugh. Some nice grizzly murders to intrigue!
Do you remember your first attempts to ride a bike? I certainly do, & they were not pleasant at all. I dont know why, but I was older than usual I think, & my brother was learning about the same time.
The neighbours who owned the farm next door, had 3 daughters, who had various suitors come to visit at times.
My brother & I were friendly with the son, who was between our ages, the girls all being older. One day one of the 'boyfriends' decided it was time we learned to ride a bicycle. I was chosen to make the first run.
It was a boys bike, & in fact, full size, as I recall. Mounting the wretched thing was quite difficult, & the bar made it almost impossible to dismount with any dignity at all.
I was given several tries at mounting & dismounting, & then shoved off & away down the paddock. Being a paddock used for grazing cows, & at times horses, It was lumpy bumpy & rugged.
Off I went at terrifying speed downhill, legs flying uncontrollably out the sides as the peddles whizzed round! I had no idea how to stop the thing, & knew I was in for hurt! And I was a coward, & did not take well to pain.
The roaring of laughter behind me was awful, & added to my humiliation. I was gathering speed, & was terrified I would end up at the bottom of the paddock & might fly into the water trough. Or over the rails of the cattle yard.
Which end was going to be worse??. Horror, I noticed a huge Scotch Thistle growing in the path of the speeding bike, so I did my best to steer into it.
And succeeded. Close encounters with Scotch Thistles are never pleasant! They are extremely prickly & hurt like hell. And the near rape of my pubic bone from the bar on the bicycle added to the pain factor X 10!
Howls & shouts of laughter came from all watchers, & I just lay very still in the midst of the thistle, smarting all over. And smarting inwardly from humiliation.
I extracted myself gingerly from the huge thistle, & limped off home across the paddock. I didnt even bother to try to pick the bike up, but I pretended the hysterical noises I was making were laughter, as I slunk off home, in pain & humiliation.
It was a few weeks before I could face any of the merciless teasers again. And they were all male, & thought it a hell of joke. Needless to say, it was another good while before I attempted to learn to ride a bike again.
I think my brother fared almost as badly as I did. He has vivid memories of our mother, puce of face, threatening him with a hiding if he didnt learn to ride her bike. He tells me I went to his defence, & did my best to teach him. I have really forgotten most of that incident, but of course will never forget my first 'lesson'. I suppose we never do.
My brother did learn to ride a bike, & made good pocket money with a paper round, which was full of rich stories to be told. He should start a blog. He could have you all in stitches!