My new skirt

Eric's parents came to visit Emerson (and us) last weekend and in addition to going grocery shopping, cooking dinner, hanging drapery rods, and cleaning the bathroom (and even seeming kind of glad to be doing it since it was helping), Joy taught me to sew.

If she were not such a nice person, I expect she would describe her experience of teaching me to sew as akin to teaching a kindergartner to sew: you have to say things slowly, repeat yourself way more than you think would think necessary and don't assume any sort of proficiency with scissors.

Sewing is amazing because if you do it right, you end up with clothes you can wear. This kind of blows my mind. I think it is similar to when you take city kids to a farm and show them that vegetables come from dirt. Where did I think clothes came from? I don't know. Maybe some sort of special tree that grows mostly in China.

The fruit of my labors was a tea-length turquoise linen skirt. As I wear it around, I want people to know that I made it, but not because it is obvious just by looking at it.