Sorry. I missed two National Days. Hug holiday (the 11th) and Red Rose Day (the 12th). I don’t know that I would have had too much to say about those days other than I’ll hug just about anybody and I’m not a fan of perishable gifts.
I’ve been busy over the last couple of days. Picking Ben up from camp and loving on him has been very time consuming. Ben reportedly had a fabulous time at camp. Chris, Ben’s companion for the week, said that Ben went up in a hot air balloon, rode a zip line (!!!), and made lots of new friends. As we were leaving camp, Ben cried great big tears and waved to all of his buddies. He had an excellent time and can’t wait to go back next year. I’ll post pictures as soon as Chris sends them to me.
So. It’s Saturday. I’m behind on so much stuff but I don’t want to miss today’s holiday. It’s National Sewing Machine Day. As I type this, my sewing machine is sitting on my dining room table. Over this past week, I made Ben some Star Wars pajama bottoms and Madeline a Hannah Montana nightgown. I’ve bought several 1950’s retro patterns for myself and am currently making a really beautiful linen dress. I don’t really have anywhere to wear this dress other than church but I’m thinking a trip to the grocery store with my hair swept up in a twist wearing a pair of kitten heels will make picking out produce more exciting. I’ll pretend I’m one of those housewives from a 1950’s black and white sitcom.
My mom used to sew all the time. She mostly made nightgowns but there were a few times that she made my sister and I matching outfits. We’re six-and-a-half years apart with me being the younger of the two. I’m confident that my sister had no desire to be dressed like her younger sister and even more horrified that these matching outfits were preserved in countless Olan Mills portraits. And it was the 70’s. It doesn’t get much worse than that. Although, I’m remembering a nightgown my mother made for me that was pretty bad. I loved the fabric (pink gingham) and the length (all the way to the floor) but the neckline was a drawstring. That’s right. When my step-brother realized he could make me turn blue with a simple tug of the drawstrings, well, the party was over and the pink nightgown was “retired”. I wonder who manufactured that particular pattern and can I get reparations for my pain and suffering? Seriously. With all the warnings on products now I sincerely wonder how we ever survived the days of lead-based paint, lack of child safety in cars, no helmets, nightgowns with drawstring necklines, open containers, etc.
So. Sew. I think sewing is becoming a lost art. I, for one, am happy to embrace my sewing machine and celebrate its own National Holiday. I think I’ll go finish my dress. Watch out, produce. Here I come.