parade flower

From my happy weekend perch on the couch, I can see a stack of new fabrics from SewMamaSew that are keeping me highly entertained, the felted cap and supplies for another Nudu cap — fulfilling my first custom knitting order, a freshly baked apple crisp and two dozen chocolate cupcakes headed to a church Katrina fundraiser, and my sweet bike Ruby. Ruby and I went on a 41 mile date this morning, during which I fell in love, yet again, with the open road. There is nothing like a lengthy bike ride to give you time to think (and focus on not falling.)
Last night at happy hour, I had a chance to catch up with one of my childhood best friends, Rebecca. I complained that as of late I’ve felt a bit isolated in social circles, and pegged as the square June Cleaver. She laughed, looked at me with kindness in her eyes and said gently, “Um, Kell. You’re the June Cleaver in our group too.”
I’ve never been one to be terribly concerned with what others thought, but everyone has a tender spot. My interests, including loving my work, exercise and faith, often make me the odd duck and subject to constant jest. I’m trying to have thicker skin, but this week was a true test of patience. What would Elle Woods do? She’d laugh at these June jokes, put on some pink, jump in her cute car and come up with a plan to make them all gawk at her success. June today, Elle tomorrow. Watch out!

~K

P.S. What do you want to bet once the Beave went off to school, good ole’ June pulled out the pinot grigio and made house work a bit of swishy fun, pearls and all?