Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Hemming and Hawing


Harpy Girl has to have her orchestra dress hemmed and ready Wednesday for a group picture. Said dress arrived home Monday night (and of course we were busy and had no time to hang the hem.) Tonight after Reedy Girl's oboe lesson we headed to do some shopping at the mall.

(They must be getting older, or I am growing in grace, because it was really fun shopping at the mall together. Of course, as Harpy Girl pointed out, I did not make her try on any clothes -- a fate worse than death -- so what was not to like?)

But, arriving home at 8:30 on Tuesday night, with said dress still unhemmed... ah well... here I am resting my fingers, rubbing my eyes and stretching my back... it is still not done! Sit. Stitch. Fold. Check. It's fiddly polyester knit too. Every stitch that is a smidge too big shows. Black dress. Black thread. At night. With bifocals. sigh... My kingdom for a nice broadcloth...

But as I work my way around the hem, I think of all of the skirts, dresses and gowns that were hemmed for me (often at the last moment) by my mom. Some were huge flowing skirts, very full. Some were fabrics that must have made her groan. A couple of times my grandmother, who sewed the tiniest stitches helped with the handwork. They were all gifts of love.

That's why I'm willing doing this. I'm sure I'll do it again. I'm just grateful that the semester is ended and that I don't have a paper to finish ON TOP of the hem. Time flies. Hems don't wait... which is why I have to get back to the task at hand. Here's hoping they don't find me asleep on the dress in the morning... ...and yards to go before I sleep and yards to go before I sleep...

Before I forget -- thanks, Mom!

From our home to yours...
Deb

2 comments:

story midwife said...

Oh, the memories that come back to me! My mother and grandmother, too, hemmed me up more times than I can count. Thank you for the sweet memories.

Tricia said...

You have an oboe girl? Neat! I played oboe for 4 or 5 years - I initially took it up because it seemed like a rebel kind of thing to do (very few people play them, after all). But two seasons of being the bass drum player in middle school marching band [year 1, he already had a bells player; year 2, i was experienced so why let me do something new?] kind of soured me on the whole experience, since marching band was not optional where I lived, if you wanted to be in band...