Sewing Lessons

Recently, when my Brother brand sewing machine finked out on me I discovered AA White Sewing Center in Holiday, Florida.

Co-owners Mike and Sherrie, a married couple, have owned the store for two years.  Mike quickly fixed my machine.  In the moments while I waited I struck up a conversation with Sherrie.  I told her what my sewing dilemmas were and learned she teaches classes.  So I set up a private lesson for the next week.

I spend my days’ sewing.  I decided it was high time to sort out how the heck to do it.

WOW!  She taught me how to sew my purse linings in with the machine, how to make a pattern template with thick plastic instead of using graph paper and several other neat little tricks.

Fast forward–I was given another commission.  This one is to turn a vintage beaded blazer, some ecru silk, handcrafted lace and a couple of baubles that look like pasties into an evening bag.

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This project is so far over my pay grade.  I immediately made an appointment for another private lesson.

While Sherrie and I sat quietly ripping out blazer seams I began asking her about life outside of AA White Sewing Center.  I learned she and Mike were Maryland High School sweethearts.  He refused to take Shop with all the other guys and insisted he should be allowed Home Ec.  He was such a rabble-rouser in class the teacher made him clean and oil all the sewing machines as his punishment.

They married shortly after graduation.  I don’t remember how they wended their way to Florida.  What I do know is Sherrie has done six triathlons.  She started running when her mom got sick with multiple myeloma.  Her first race was with Team in Training–a marathon–to fundraise for cancer research  I did that years ago.  So difficult.  I did NOT fall in love with exercise.

Sherrie did.  Last weekend she was in Texas where she swam in a lake for miles.  Then she ran to a changing tent, put on bike gear and rode her bicycle 112 miles.  Following that she changed again and ran a full 26.2-mile marathon!  She came in second place.

I got sweaty just imagining all that exercise.

Today I am actually wrestling myself away from the sewing machine.  Jim, who golfs every Tuesday and Thursday, will be home.  Our rainy season is beginning, no golf for him.  So we have a date!  Lunch, a movie, and a field trip to Whole Foods.  Tomorrow night is our monthly Game Night with our buddies.  They always make fabulous charcuterie platters. I’m planning to up my game.

Fed ex just delivered artwork by my two-year-old grandson, Tate.  An ass. (The artwork, not the grandson.)

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On the back, Mo wrote a sweet note.  She thanked me for not killing her during the two-year-old tantrum stage.  I don’t remember many Mo tantrums.  However, one spectacular moment comes to mind. I failed to call her “Brucie”–a name she adopted when she was three or four.  She also chewed out her pre-school teacher for the same mistake.  She sat on the top of the sliding board, head spinning on her neck Linda Blair style, and howled, “I AM NOT MAUREEN!!  CALL ME BRUCIE!”  The teacher may not have been amused, but I was.

More artwork by cute Tate.

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