A Stitch In Time



Being not a particularly handy person, I do have a fascination with fixing things. Repair takes on an aura of magic. It takes me awhile but I have some rudimentary skills. As far as what used to be called the Domestic Arts, I like to cook. Hate to clean. And then, everything else is ad-hoc. Like sewing.

I had a Home Econ class back in Junior High in Grade 8 (now it is called Consumer Sciences). That was my last official instruction in sewing. Every so often, School Departments re-brand. Industrial Arts becomes Technical Education, Foreign Language turns into World Language, and Guidance Counselor transforms to School Counselor. Guidance sounds too heavy-handed for the sensibility of modern times I suppose. I do encourage students to take classes in some elective areas that may come in use sometimes later. I will leave the reader to decide if that is guidance or not.

To my point, I had two pieces of clothing that had rips in the armpit area. Probably because of my massive biceps. One is a nice green sweater and the other is a beloved University of Montana  tee-shirt. I had to think through the sewing process and figured out where the snags were in the process. It was the threading of the needle. So, I went to Amazon and searched for threaded needles and voila, pre-threaded needles in different thread colors!

So, I did the repairs and although not perfect, good enough. I don't have to chuck the clothes. If I had continued to wait, the rips would have become irreparable. I suppose the moral of the story is that when life begins to rip the clothes of our lives, get out the needle and thread. Apologize quickly, say sorry sooner, admit errors. And then try to fix it. 

Confess your sins to one another. Then, get sewing.








   

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