Frankensteined Sheets

You  know the old adage: "use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without".  Well, when it comes to the sheets on our bed we've already surpassed those first two and have moved into the "make it do" stage before we "throw them out"! I love these sheets. We have a king-sized bed and sheets aren't cheap. About a year ago my husband suggested replacing them when we got one of those ubiquitous Bed Bath and Beyond coupons in the mail. We even went to the store and looked. This wasn't a financial matter as much as me just being picky; I don't like the way new sheets feel. I like our old ones, they are soft, they are broken in. The breaking in period has continued; they have now reached threadbare status. Last night every time I rolled over in bed I caught my hand in the top portion of the sheet and it ripped a little bit more... I felt as though I was under attack. When we got up this morning my husband asked me if it was finally time. Time to toss them and go shopping. He was happy, I hated to be a kill-joy, but...no, not yet, I can fix them; and sew, I did! I stripped off the top sheet, stitched away, and contentedly remade the bed with the now frankensteined version of our original sheet. They will do... for awhile. Eventually we will make it to the store, this isn't a matter of spending anymore; now it's become a challenge! How long will they last? Time will tell; I can be stubborn, and I have a lot of thread!

Life is Good!

Four Words...

... that strike fear; straight to my heart: "can you hem these"? Sigh. Of course, I say "yes".  And yet, as far as I am concerned, these four words compose the scariest question I know. "Why?" you may ask. They are men's dress slacks, and they're cuffed. That seems like reason enough. A few weeks back my son and his family were here after church, that's when the fear-inspiring question was posed. My son stood on an elevated surface and I pinned the hems to the proper length... and hung them in the closet... where they remained... until yesterday. I took them out, picked up the scissors, drew a deep breath, and set the scissors back down. I repeated this three times. Then, I took an even deeper breath and went to work. They were done, to pinned specifications, in less than an hour. I delivered them to my daughter-in-law yesterday afternoon. I pray they're okay, please join me in that prayer. Again, you may wonder why this is such a daunting task; that fact that they're cuffed dress slacks might not be enough of an explanation for you. Yes, there's another reason: way back when, maybe 25 years ago, I set to work hemming a pair of dress slacks for my son. I pinned one leg, I cut it off, I hemmed it, and did it again... unfortuntely to the same leg! Yep, it's true. Now you know. I guarantee that did not happen this time!

Life is Good!

This week's Advent word is love...this post may seem unrelated; it's not, I love my son.

Mending?

My son and daughter in law cleaned out their closets right after Christmas and unearthed a pile of things that needed mending. They brought them to... who else? "Sure I can do that for you". Did I hop right on it? Of course not. There were several polo shirts that needed the buttonholes made smaller, a torn jacket that needed some TLC, another that needed the cuffs tacked up and two pair of slacks that needed hemming. Oops, never mind, I've had those slacks for a lot longer than a month, but you get the idea. Things I need to do vs. things I want to do. Do you have similar battles within yourself or is it just me? Yesterday became mending day, simply because I had grown tired of moving the bag of mending around or stepping over it. Like all tasks that I try to avoid, this one didn't take nearly as long to complete as I had unfairly and disproportionately estimated. While I was sewing I recalled Anna, the white haired lady down the street who took in mending for my grandmother and her friends when I was a little girl. If something needed a button, a hem, to be taken in or let out, it was put in a bag to "take to Anna". In my little girl mind I was entranced by the idea of being an expert on something, anything, to the point that your friends and neighbors would seek you out and bring you their clothing for repair. Anna was my hero back then. And so, here I sat yesterday, being all Anna-like as I repaired button holes and hemmed slacks. I was aware of the trust that had been placed in me (forget the fact that the Mom's price is right!) and I felt pride in the job at hand. It was a a good feeling to complete the work, now I can get back to the things I like to do even more than mending. But, just to be clear, unlike this picture: I don't do shoes!

Life is Good!