Universal Compulsion

They all do it.  When children come in to my sewing room, they all manage to find a way to push the pins in at least one pincushion all the way down.  If they are really focused and diligent, they can manage to do it on all the pincushions in sight (I have many) and true adepts will find a pincushion with pins that have colored heads and create a pattern while pushing the pins all the way down.

Here you see the pincushion on the left rectified and ready for work; the pins are now all quickly and easily grasped for use, but when I came in to sew this morning every single one was flush against the surface of that cushion.  The pincushion on the right has had the “kid-in-the-sewing-room” treatment left in place.  No, the hammer is not there to threaten little pin-pushing fingers, but to hammer thick and bulky seams for easier sewing, a very good trick.  Alas, I know of no trick to stop kids from pushing pins as far as they will go into a pincushion.  I just take a little time to re-stage the pins, make sure no needles disappeared inside the cushion and then go back to sewing.  It’s a small price to pay for having such engaging company while I’m sewing, although I think the culprit this time either snuck in on his own or was visiting with my cousin while she was here sewing and I was otherwise occupied.

 

Always Dress the Part

Funny Story:

I’ve been driving the cart and acting as sometime caddy for Logan this spring on the golf course so he can work a little more consistently on his golf game.  We’ve had quite a few laughs and I do think his game is improving a bit.  

Recently, we were on the course on a busy day playing our usual nine holes and unable to play through so we waited for several minutes on nearly every tee since Logan’s drives are now consistently in the 150-200 yard range.  On one of those waits, a cart from the foursome in front of us scooted up to us and the gentleman driving commented on the fact that there was no reason for us to play through because the course was blocked up in front of him leaving us no way to get ahead.  We had already observed this ourselves and were content to wait.  We do enjoy each other’s company, so no worries there, but it was nice of the unknown cart driver to let us know.  However, the next exchange with this gentleman in the cart was hilarious.  He asked me if I was the new female pro at the club.  Oh my, oh my, nothing could be further from the truth.  Logan and I have been having a field day with my sudden promotion from cart-driving granny to golf pro!  Cue up the laugh track.  Gary says it’s because I dress professionally that people mistake me for a professional.  Could be.  Also could be the striding around the greens asking Logan, “How do you think this one will break?”

Incidentally, Logan made par on 2 holes, one 3-par and one 5-par.  His overall scores are not showing the progress yet because he continues to have a few holes on every round with absurdly high scores for whatever reason, but he’s getting to the point where he knows he COULD shoot par on every hole, even the longest par 5’s.  In my opinion as an amateur golf observer most of my life, that is real progress that can’t be denied even if it’s not showing on the scorecard yet. 

Care for a lesson?  In art, or sewing, or quilting, or knitting, or public speaking, or just about ANY discipline but sports?  I’m a pro.  Or at least I dress like one.