One of the hardest things about moving up here has been starting over. I mean, not knowing anyone. At the Middle House, one time, I realized I needed a tablespoon of baking powder to finish a (really good) cake. Are you serious? I have to load up two children right before dinner, drive to Wal-Mart, unload them, fight the crowds to the baking aisle, get that one tiny can, stand in line for ten minutes, get them back in the car, drive home, unload them (by now they're fussing because dinner is late), bring them in, feed them dinner and oh yeah, the cake still isn't ready.
So I (bravely) went next door, and asked my neighbor (whom I had met once or twice) to borrow some. They have a little daughter, and seemed friendly and approachable. And then that evening, I brought them some cake. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Or not. I never heard from them again. They didn't even return my dish. I promise, the cake was good!
Perhaps I have the black thumb of friendship.
Yesterday at the library, I looked around at all the moms with kids the ages of my own, and hoped for a chance to talk to someone. Surely someone out there has room in their little black book for one more friend. Aha, I see her.
She has a boy a little older than Iain.
She has the stay-at-home mom uniform on (rather than the professional mom ensemble, which shows a possible lack of time for spontaneous trips to the park).
She looks nice enough.
And, oh yes, glory be, I hear her talking to the librarian about homeschooling!
And better yet, about Sonlight curriculum, the very one I am investigating for my boys!
I (bravely) approach her.
Me: Excuse me, did I hear you say you use Sonlight? (ah yes, that was a brilliant line.)
Her: Yes. (um, see, I just tossed you the conversational ball. You have to toss it back now. Give me something here, anything!)
Me: (faltering. She sure was chatty with the librarian not two seconds ago.) Um, do you like it? (stupid question. If she didn't, why would she be using it? Trying to cover, I continue) I'm thinking of using it for my kids.
Her: Yes, I like it. There's not enough seat work, though. I have to use some other stuff for that. Otherwise I just read [to her son] all day.
Me: Oh. (insert inane responses and small talk here)
Her: (insert inane responses and small talk here)
She gave me her name and number, in case I had more questions. That was nice. But after the way the conversation went, I think the death knell was sounded on that possible friendship before it began.
Sometimes taking the (brave) initiative really doesn't pay.