Thrifty Thursday

 Recycling an Old Friendship

Born in the same year, we first met as newborns. Right from the very start, we never had much interest in each other. She seemed to get along quite well with my mom and my mom sure liked her but even from an early age, I could tell she was a wee bit complicated. So for those first few years, we remained in a state of blissful ignorance of each other and while our relationship wasn't very memorable, I can tell you that she was always hanging around. Always.

Eventually, I got a little older, a little less egocentric and it wasn't long before I started to become more aware of her presence. As I watched the relationship between my mom and her flourish, I suddenly had an urge to strengthen the bonds of friendship with her myself. Perhaps I had read her wrong, maybe she had a lot more to offer than I gave her credit for.

So I took the first step, offering her an olive branch of kindness loaded with big fat humbling olives. She seemed to accept my offer of a truce, almost more excited than I to end our unspoken vow of silence towards each other. My mom, so happy that at last a friendship might finally develop between her and I, eagerly reintroduced us to each other. She even took me aside, explaining that she understood my initial apprehensions all those years ago and that while she may have her little nuances, just as we all do, that in plain truth, she was a simple girl who just wanted to have fun. And tell me, what's so wrong about that?

So, one lovely Saturday afternoon, we sat down together at the dining room table and began to get to know each other better. At first things seemed to be progressing well and I wondered, how could I have misread her so? She was polished and refined in her own way and I admired her for her strength and many talents. But before long, it all came back to me. She was fickle, she liked things a certain way and she always wanted to travel at a certain speed but gosh darn if I could figure out what that was. Soon my patience was sorely tested and as my frustration grew my patience shortened more and more. Embarrassingly, I lost my cool. I was ten. It happens. Yet even more maddening was how she took it all in stride, not showing a single shred of emotion. So nonplussed was she about this whole situation that I doubted her sincerity from the very beginning. After that, I stayed away for a good many years. Her relationship with my mom came and went, my mom became busier with work outside the home, but whenever they did get together, everything fell into place as if they'd never missed a day apart.

Since then, memory has faded my disillusion and I have made a few attempts at rekindling a friendship. When the male twin was born, she helped me make a beautiful Christmas stocking for him but it wasn't easy sailing. My mom had to referee all of our time together, sort of odd since we were both in our thirties. 

Nowadays, as I try to revert to a home made life, here in the old farmhouse, there are so many things we could offer each other. I've looked her up, my mom has brought her around for a visit and she's staying here now. I'm really hoping that this year, this winter, we will finally once and for all develop the relationship that I know we were meant to have.

Please meet my friend, Singer.

What do you think, is there any hope for us?

We have a thing or two in common, namely my mom and the fact that we're both vintage.

And vintage, baby, makes my heart sing! 

 ~Respectfully submitted friends~