only – one day away from your arms!

Over the last few days I’ve finished up several t-shirts, a cosplay gift for my sister-in-law, and a rayon knit dress with deep pockets and thumbhole cuffs. I’ve re-ordered linen for a lined and underlined frock, and started a skintone-dyed slip. Today I received my first Halloween commission of the year; yardage for a Christmas gift sits on the shelf, awaiting my return from vacation this month. I’ve also published my August tutorial, and redesigned my website (as you can see).

And in bigger news – for me at least – I’ve been working hard on another zine! I field parenting questions on social media often enough and I thought I could put a little bit of my passion and experience to good use. I will have more to say about the zine soon, and you can sign up to be the first to know (I’m looking for a solid title, so help me out!). Release date is Halloween this year!

The clothes dryer is still broken – despite two new parts we’ve tried to install – so that’s kept me a bit busy, running to the laundromat – hauling battered garbage bags of heavy, thick, soaking wet towels. I get to show the boys these life skills, little by slow. Up this week: teaching the youngest how to re-thread my serger.

The weather has cooled to a beachy mist; a welcome respite as we know it will get hot again a bit, before the autumn cool down. Our garden is getting enough of a drink – Ralph waters the plants daily and the bit of rain has helped. Our strawberries, beans and potatoes are faring well; our flowers – clematis, azalea, hydrangea, and lots of irises and peonies, planted before we moved in – are hardy and gorgeous, and I need to make sure to enjoy them before they are past their bloom.

I’ve been singing “Twenty Four Hours from Tulsa” over the last day, to myself. The Dusty Springfield version, of course; there is no other version. While I’m sewing or working her voice pierces my heart. I can sing as dramatically as I like, in front of my children. In front of no one else, in fact. Maybe I’ll grow a little less shy, or perhaps my children are just the most special people in my heart, and who can know the unvarnished Me.

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