The thing that looks like one long sleeve is actually the veil.
I sew. I sew kid’s clothes. I sew Halloween costumes. I sewed most of my oldest daughter’s Homecoming and Prom dresses, heck I even sewed her wedding dress while she lived 3 thousand miles away. That was fun. For the last few weeks I’ve been working on some very special dresses for some very special little girls for 2 very special occasions. This coming Saturday my beautiful Granddaughter will receive her 1st Communion. I made her dress and veil. She looks beautiful in it. Next month my beautiful niece, my brother’s youngest child will be getting married. I’m kind of tearing up even as I write this. No, I didn’t make her wedding dress, but she wants her brother’s daughter and her cousin’s daughter to be flower girls. They found a dress for her niece, but couldn’t find one to match for her little cousin, who’s more like a niece to her. So my sister-in-law sent me the dress and some material and asked if I could make one to match it. Well she asked first, then sent the stuff when I said yes. I’m also making little boleros for both the flower girls. I just finished the second bolero. My favorite part of sewing is seeing the finished product on the wearer. It gives me great satisfaction. I can’t wait to see them at the wedding. But I just realized something. I can’t remember the last time I made something for myself. I used to sew for myself all the time. I had a great wardrobe and thanks to Payless, I had a bunch of great shoes too. I don’t know if it’s the weight gain or just the fact that I don’t work in an office anymore. My wardrobe now mostly consists of jeans and cords and t-shirts. But when I finished the second bolero I decided something. I’m going to make myself a skirt. I was going to wait until all the weight was off but I decided what the hell, I’m going to make a peasant type skirt that I can take in easily as the weight comes off. Maybe I’ll take one of those pictures every few weeks standing in the same place so it looks like I’m shrinking. Hey, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll post it when I’m done. I’m glad my mom taught me to sew.
By the way: I learned how to use the stat thing on the blog and just wanted to say hi to all those people in
Russia,
Germany and
UK who read this. That was really cool to find out. I hope you’re enjoying it.
Legacy (Part 5)
Yesterday I said part 3 and I just realized it should have said part 4.
“Shut up dog!” her father yells.
In uncharacteristic deviance the old hound peals off one more howl. She scrambles to her window. Her eyes widen in momentary excitement. There it is. A lone coyote silhouetted on the hilltop, her hilltop. A small gasp escapes her lips, she blinks and it’s gone. Her brow furrows as she scrutinizes the hill. “Where did it go?” she whispers to no one in particular.
“Where did what go?” her barely awake sister asks.
“A coyote, I saw a coyote on the hill,” She whispers. She is breathless.
“You did not; go back to sleep.”
She ignores her sister and grabs her robe. She leaves the protection of her room. She has to know. Could he really be there or did she just imagine it. The chill night air bites at her face as she steps onto the patio. Her familiar back yard is different somehow. The light of the full moon, shinning through the overgrown pine on the hill casts shadows making it seem untamed. Unafraid she ventures forth, peering into the semidarkness. The old hound comes to her with tail wagging.
“You saw him too, didn’t you boy?” She asks the dog as she bends to caress his too-long ear.
In high school now, the old memory of the coyote renders sleep impossible. She decides to finish the homework she lost interest in earlier that evening. She really doesn’t like this class. She knew it involved a lot of writing and had been excited about it. Everyone told her how cool the teacher was. She thinks he spends more time trying to prove them right than he does teaching. The first day of class he announced he was going to turn them all into great writers. “All you have to do to be a good writer,” he informed them, “is read, read, read then… write, write, write.”
She read more that semester than she had in years: The Great Gatsby, The Old Man and the Sea, The Outsiders, and so many short stories the titles were lost to her. The writing assignment she is working on now is the forth and final one she will have to submit to this man who finds her mediocre. She writes about the old Mexican shepherd who one year did not return. She writes about his devotion to the sheep. She writes that Jesus was depicted as a shepherd because of men such as him.
***
One at a time they go to his desk so he can impart some pearl of wisdom with the grade. She tries not to expect too much. C+… the highest grade he has given her so far. When she takes the paper he looks at her with his too-cool smile and says, “Remember what I said when this class started about how to become a good writer?”
She tells him she remembers.
“You seem to be the exception to that rule. No matter how much you practice you never improve. But don’t worry about it; I’m sure you have other talents.”
She stands there feeling nauseous. She thinks she may vomit.
Thursday – Exercise – 20 minutes; 1.1 miles
- Breakfast – An orange, left over tofu and veggies (I’m telling you, this stuff is really yummy it’s even good for breakfast) 1 cup of oolong tea with honey.
- AM Snack – a stuffed grape leaf
- Lunch – rice, and more leftover veggies and tofu (only one more serving left)
- PM Snack – I was busy sewing
- Dinner – TJ’s (That’s Trader Joe’s for all you people outside this country) meatless protein dog wrapped in a tortilla, dipped in honey mustard. (pretty tasty) small bowl of rice and a hard boiled egg.
And btw, I’m only supposed to weigh myself once a week, but my clothes seem to fit a tiny bit looser so I stepped on the scale and I’m below 200! YAY!!
