Yesterday I shortened the over-stretched elastic inside my poofy hat so that it no longer flops down over my eyes. Today I am still in the process of sewing elastic to the waistband (to, not in) of a pair of work pants so I can get a few more years out of them. Centuries of women and men sewed without machines, like me, and I take my poofy hat off to them.
(Much of the sewing time was spent teasing pins from my mother's old pincushion. Most of them turned out to be needles.)
And I will not think about or regret the bag of unwearable clothes I took down to the dropbox that recycles cloth. 'Farewell my old coat' is one thing; 'farewell my Joe Cool Snoopy t-shirt with the sweat stains' is another. But I *liked* that t-shirt....
