This morning we went for a bike ride to a sunny spot in the neighborhood for muffins and coffee. It was gloriously windy and sunny and reminded me of a brisk October afternoon. It also reminded me of the long bike rides I took as a kid in the small town where I grew up. I learned how to ride a bike pretty late, 7 or 8 at least. My parents traveled and we were never in one place long enough to give it a go. My first bike had been refurbished by my uncle and was blue. Basket? I think so. Definitely streamers. My dad taught us to always ride on the street-- a concept that was at once bewildering (does he want me to die?) and awe-inspiring (he really thinks I'm brave enough!?). My second bike was a pink and purple Huffy-- a 10 speed road bike that took forever for me to learn to ride. It had the curly handle bars, and did I mention that it was pink and purple-- heavy on the pink? I liked it for a year or so-- then it got a bit embarrassing. When I was 15 my dad bought me a trail bike. Green. Straight handle bars. *love*. I did everything on those bikes. My sister and I rode to our friend's to play, I rode it to all my jobs (right through college), and I even tried riding to school (which was about 10 miles away through hilly country-side and busy roads) in Grade 12-- until I realized how much sweat was cute and how much was down-right disgusting.
Paul loves to ride. He raced bmx when he was young and he used to bike commute regularly. He has the clicky shoes, the rain gear, and the swanky saddle bags (thankfully he draws the line at the shorts. A firm line.). He has been hit by a car. We bought a fancy European trailer for Sam last year and he's learning to ride his very own Haro. These days I ride (I'll give you one guess) a pale pink Huffy inherited from my grandma. The brakes squeak and I have to concentrate really hard on making it go in a straight line. It's embarrassing at how cautious I've become. Portland is a bike lovers dream. Still, I'm terrified to ride through town and am consistently amazed at the way people take to their two wheels with so much confidence. Riding with abandon is the only thing I miss about being 12.
This brings me to today's project. Bike pants for the little one. Shorts that cover his little knees. Little boy capris. Short pants. This was the best picture I could get-- I know you can't tell it, but they are VERY SWEET. And the best part is that they were made in about 30 minutes using "My Favorite Things" baby stuff pattern. He's normally in the 2T-3T range, but this 6-12 month pant pattern fits just between the knee and the ankle with plenty of room in the seat. I think I can continue to modify the pattern pieces to make the same type of pants as he grows. We'll see.
This jacket is from the same pattern and is for my yet to be born niece or nephew. A future bike lover. I've been in a tizzy waiting for this baby-- pacing up and down for a week.
I finally turned some of that nervous energy into productivity and cut into the cutest seersucker you everdidsee. Baby pants and a onesie with one of Laurie's iron-on robots. There's more. The child's sex needs to be determined in order to determine if there will be a matching bonnet or maybe a bucket hat. I've got stacks of things cut and ready to sew the minute I get the call.
Sam and I are heading to my parents house this week. There will be lots of new baby smell and fun in the sun. I'll leave it to my dad to teach him how to ride on the street.