Yes, we're home...nearly a week now, in fact...but our stuff from our some of our suitcases still lies in stacks around us...the laundry from the trip is still drying on the lines...demands on our time are great...corn just harvested...tomatoes rotting in tubs...many unpredictables...school to be started...a choir to care about...legal matters to pursue...so just breathe a little prayer for us right now...and we're still so tired from jetlag...discouragement threatens...hoping to survive this month...
There! That makes me feel better! I... ...detest ...abhor ...despise mending. I'm sure those of you who are virtuous mothers are shaking their heads and wondering what is the matter with me. I don't know where I missed it, but the pile of mending in my sewing center makes me cringe with hatred. Why do I wait until all of Allison's dresses are missing a button before I finally, grudgingly get out my needle and thread? Why does a dress hang for two years in my closet with chopped off sleeves that are only waiting for one seam? Why do John's Sunday pants lay over my bedroom chair for weeks before I finally get around to sewing the loophole back on? I've always hated repairing clothes. When I learned to sew and sewed my sleeve in upside down, I would have rather started all over than to tear out the one little seam. Mending is such a tedious chore. But today, when I finally got around to sewing on six buttons on six dresses, sewing up a hole in the back of another, and...
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