Dressmaking

I ordered flannel fabric for winter SugarPlum dresses.  When she came for a visit, and we'd finished a game of Spelling Bee, my thinking cap was on crooked: "Hey, SugarPlum, Nana bought fabric to make you dresses.  Would you like to see it?"  Six prints, plus their companions.  I like the chickens and pigs.  SugarPlum liked the snowman fabric, my least favorite.  She liked it a lot. 

"Nana, can we make it now!?"

"Now?  Right now?  Oh...um...well, okay."

Better nanas are always ready to put their hands and bodies to work.  Notsobetter nanas, who've developed a pesky habit of awakening for the day at 3:30 a.m., sometimes can't believe what they've gotten themselves into in the mid-afternoon, when a sitdown with yarn and needles sounds ever more inviting than wrestling tissue paper and snowman flannel.

"Are you ready for another nail?"
"Almost.  Those are pins."


"Here's another nail, Nana."
"Pin.  Thank you."


Jabbing myself the third time with a nail, this plunge drawing blood, SugarPlum instructed, "Nana, you really shouldn't do that.  Don't do that any more."

You don't say.

I told Zoomer, if I had a quarter for every time SugarPlum said nail, and I responded pin, I could hire someone to sew the ugly little dress for me.  Absent those quarters, I have to try to make myself stitch that thing together before Wednesday, when the plum will be back.  Worse things have happened.

But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the Lord.  ~Jeremiah 9:24