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What she gave me

It’s my Mumini’s birthday today. I tried to take photos of the skirt I made to show off to her, but frankly she deserves better. Let’s talk life skillz.

What she gave me:

  • Knitting. Man, that first scarf: she showed me how to cast on, and then I would work a row of K1, P1 rib. She spotted mistakes, unpicked for me, and encouraged me to try again. Soon I was doing whole rows without mistakes; then blocks; finally the whole scarf was mine. I made every stitch. (Some of them more than once.) If I couldn’t knit now…jebus, I’d be on methadone or probation or something.
  • Humour. Holy crap can she laugh. If there’s one thing we share — and there isn’t, there’s loads — it’s the ability to laugh in the face of craptitude. (She’s better at it than me: I take a bit to remember how, but she’s a pro.)
  • Plants. Got a few hours? I’ll talk veggies until the carrots come home. Got a few more? She’ll talk flowers.
  • Books. Ohh boy, there’s another few hours gone. Will talk words until interrupted by another round of tea.
  • Tea. Black no sugar, for two, thanks.
  • Love of animals. Fluffybums galore at Mumini’s house.
  • Ability to disperse at least half of one’s meal over one’s self during the first ten minutes of eating.
  • Petite stature.
  • A liberal approach to instructions: I don’t think I’ve followed a recipe, knitting pattern or set of instructions ever, because I was reared on the attitude of “when they say [x], you’ll find it easier to do [y], and the results are better.”

What I kinda missed:

  • Persistence: She will spend hours painstakingly hand-embroidering the bride and groom’s initials on the hem of the wedding dress she just spent six weeks making, because she know when things should be perfect. (True story.)
  • Guts: Two bulky men are outside the childcare centre she runs, taking photos of the street. Mumini walks over: “Excuse me, would you mind explaining to me why you are photographing my childcare centre?” Man 1: “Quite right, madam.” and shows his police badge. I’d be timidly trying to shoo them with a newspaper: my Mumini gets down to business.
  • Sewing: that embroidery on the six-week wedding dress I just mentioned? Tip of the iceberg. She sewed the whole wedding party. (I mean, just the clothes: they weren’t dolly bridesmaids or anything.) Toys, clothes, furnishings: she even reupholstered a set of couches once (but only once). If you can make it with a needle and fabric, she’s already made it and found a better way.

What I figured out myself:
How awesome she is. Funny, clever, resilient. Inclined to snore on the couch, also inclined to meet people with happy openness, animals with adoration, children with outright delight, and gadgets with eye-popping enthusiasm. She’s the cat’s pyjamas.

Happy birthday Mumini! Without you I wouldn’t be the jaw-droppingly cool chicka I am today. I’m grateful for everything.

PS: I scheduled this blog post so you could see it before work.

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