My name is Dawn and......

I talk to dead people but only when I am in a pinch.

This afternoon the girls wanted to go for a bike ride so once it had cooled off a little bit I agreed to the plan. Then of course the plan changed cos that's what happens when you make plans. Lily decided that instead of riding her bike she wanted to ride mine. This would be OK if she could actually reach the ground on it but she can't. But the problem with being 10 is that you know absolutely everything because somewhere inside your head you have convinced your brain that you are actually 37. I told her that I was sure it was a bad idea as she couldn't have grown that much since last time she tried but she begged and pleaded until I caved and off she went down the street wobbling all over the place.

I told her to make sure she jumped off of my bike and let IT fall and NOT her if she felt out of control at anytime.

Just a tiny puddle that she found

wobbling along the bike path.

Before too long a certain child noticed that my bike is equipped with a fine array of gears so she chose to change them. I actually told her too as I thought it would be easier for her to peddle. I failed to tell her to do it slowly and peddle whilst doing it. Big oops. She just ripped through them and the next thing the bike isn't going any where at all and the pedals aren't exactly turning. I took a look and what a mess! Years back Jacob had done this to an old bike of his and it was going to cost more to fix than the bike was worth. My heart sank a little bit. I pushed it home and remained a little quiet.

 This is where the dead people come into it. My uncle John fixed bikes when I was growing up, (actually the man could fix anything) and I have seen him fix hundreds of them. I'm not sure that the ones he did had as many gears on as mine but the philosophy has to be the same. I went into the house and got a cold drink and a pencil, that was going to be my tool. I went outside tipped my bike upside down and looked at the sky. That's when I talked to a dead person. I told him I was in a pickle (again) and that I didn't need a lecture just a little guidance. We talked for a minute, actually we didn't, I did and then I set too. The chain was stuck, really mashed and nothing I did with my fabulous tool, the pencil, would free it so I asked the dead person to tell me what to do and BAM, the chain came free and as I flipped it, it landed directly onto a cog so I very slowly turned the pedals backwards, not forwards, I remembered him doing that and it clunked a few times. I then needed to figure out what gear I was in and what cog I needed to put the chain on. Well whaddaya know it had landed on the right one! I wasn't convinced that it would be quite that easy so I flipped my bike and rode it down the driveway. I slowly changed the gears and all is well. I'm telling you, talking to dead people works!

 As a side note both my children now think I am certifiable. (as if there was ever any doubt)

Thank you Uncle John. Yes, I do know that I never learn and that I really shouldn't have let her ride it and that she could have got hurt, and yes she was wearing a helmet and no I won't do it again, well not this week anyway. Oh and by the way, I really do miss you.