...life steals your socks!
I remember once, years ago when I was a wee lass, scampering across a ploughed field. I remember marveling - rather narcissistically - at how well my ankles were suited to this type of travel. I recall thinking that all those non-country kids in my class at school would be lost trying to get across such an uneven field. To prove my point I skipped and hopped to the next furrow as gracefully - in my mind - as a fairy ballerina. I know you can see what happened next... The furrow crumbled beneath me and I tottled unceremoniously off balance, and landed on my ass, with my hand in a big, sludgey, mucky puddle.
I'm sure that's the moment I learnt about both humility and irony.
So, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to me this morning, while crocheting on the bus, feeling like everyone must be marvelling at my ability to conjure little flower shapes out of nothing but a slip of metal and some string when, with a flourish I cast off. It was my undoing.
Pinga-ling ting-bing! The crochet hook went flying across the bus floor.
Yep. Humility. Sometimes I need a bit of a reminder...