My Uncle Andy was sort of mythical to me when I was a kid. He was tall and, being Canadian, spoke both French and English. His allure was nailed when I learned that he ice-skated on rivers.
He visited the summer I wanted to learn to ride a two-wheeler. We were living in the country on a road that the adults did not consider safe for a probably wobbly learner, so Uncle Andy offered to teach me in the grassy acre behind our house. “If you can learn to ride in the grass, dear child, everywhere else will be a piece of cake,” he told me.
I brought Uncle Andy’s wisdom to a recent sewing project, the Vic Duo Girl + Mum Cardigan on the French sewing site Ikatee. This would require new skills – including a lining and buttons. “So, dear child,” I told myself, “if you can learn to construct it in French, everything else will be a piece of cake.”
I thoroughly enjoyed the bi-lingual pattern. “Droit fil“ is not a regular player in high school French compared to its pivotal role in clothing construction. I downloaded the instructions in English, and the directions were as clear as words describing actions in three dimensions with various materials can be. The challenge, the riding in the tall grass, came from the video instructions, spoken by Madame in rapid-fire French.
She spoke fast and she moved fast, making me pause and rewind the hour-long video class about every thirty seconds.
I managed and with a great deal of pleasure. The facings behaved, and I added small cuffs.
The back seemed a little plain, and so I added a pleat of bright color.
Is there anything as daunting as making buttonholes in a garment you have spent weeks on? There can be no retreat from that leap of faith. Madame and I managed nicely, thank you very much.
So thank you for the good start, Uncle Andy. You taught me to jump on and go -- full of courage, eyes bright, pedals whirling, trying to balance. Regarde moi! Je me fraye un chemin à travers les hautes herbes! Or something like that.
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