Yesterday for the evening church service I sang a solo, played the song for the communion service, and the ending song, too. The solo comes before the sermon, somewhere near the beginning of the service; the communion is at the end. So there I went, strutting proudly up the aisle to the pulpit; there I came back down off the platform and back to my seat, just as conceited as could be; and again, about 45 minutes later, I swaggered arrogantly up to the piano, played, and then flounced back down, reseated myself,--and that’s when I noticed: my skirt was off-kilter by exactly 90°.
The zipper was on the side, which is a fine and dandy place for zippers to be…except I discovered a slash pocket right smack-dab in the center front! Feeling surreptitiously around behind me, I located the other pocket exactly in the back. I bounced up and down a couple of times on the pew (luckily, we usually sit on the second to the last pew at the back of the church), giving the skirt a good tug each time. That didn’t help much, and I thought half a dozen people behind me were no doubt wondering what in the world was the matter with me, so I waited until my brother began the prayer at the end of the first half of the communion service, when I again commenced to scrambling around vigorously. The recalcitrant skirt hung onto the cushion for dear life, thwarting my energetic efforts to turn it.
When it was time to play the final song, I gave that skirt a good hard yank as I stood, hoping nobody would notice. I then marched up to the piano. Not daring to call attention to my plight, seated as I was on the platform in front of everybody, I left the skirt alone until the closing prayer. The awful thing was still a good 45° whoppyjaw! How incommodious. Luckily, the piano bench doesn’t have a cushion, so I was able to slide that skirt around to where it belonged just before the preacher said “Amen.”
There. I was finally adjusted and squared. I put my nose in the air and strode haughtily back to my family---and that’s when I realized: my sweater had followed my skirt in its counter-clockwise orbit, and the button placket headed off due west in a 30° curve. Good grief.
Larry got the garage and the shed all cleaned this week, and he’s threatening to string anybody up by their toenails if they so much as sneeze on his well-ordered array.
Dorcas is now working on the edging of the blanket she’s been crocheting for my nephew’s new baby. She’s making three-dimensional roses in pastel colors of pink, blue, and yellow, all the way around the blanket. It’s so pretty.
Hannah is just about done with a little cardigan for one of that new baby’s sisters. It is white with pink trim and big puffy sleeves, and it has hearts and flowers embroidered on it, too. She’s also finishing a pink five-piece doll outfit for somebody for Christmas; she’ll be paid about $10. That’s probably not enough for the amount of time she puts into it; but one can hardly charge by the hour for crocheting.
Hannah and Dorcas’ dresses for the Christmas program are all done now, except for the appliques Hannah will put on hers, and Saturday I cut out Lydia’s. It’s a black/red/white check in metallic taffeta, with a three-tiered skirt; the bodice is black velvet; and the cummerbund, sash, and piping are a red metallic ribbed taffeta. Norma gave me the material, which was left over from the dress she’s sewing for Katie. Lydia is all excited about matching Katie.
One afternoon I noticed that Caleb had a sore on his lip.
“What happened?” I asked, tipping his chin up to take a closer look.
He made a woebegone face. “When I was running into Victoria’s room, I fell down and chipped it!” He looked around sadly, making sure everyone was listening to his sad tale. ”And I couldn’t put a Band-Aid there!”
Larry is in pain from a tooth whose roots are disintegrating. He’s taking antibiotics to reduce the infection, which went into his sinuses, and also a strong painkiller, which isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. The dummy won’t go to the dentist until I call and make an appointment for him, and then bossily insist he keep the engagement.
Thursday evening was our last Jr. Choir meeting until after the first of the year--from now on, it will be Christmas program practice, starting Friday. Keith, knowing I would be busy with Jr. Choir, helpfully bought us pizza for supper.
Tuesday we took Victoria to the immunization clinic in David City for the last in her first series of shots. The poor little baby hardly cries. When it’s over, she snuggles up on my shoulder for a few seconds, then enchants the nurses by turning around and smiling sweetly at them.
You should’ve seen the two-year-old we saw there once. He got his shot, three people trying unsuccessfully to hold him down as he bellowed and struggled valiantly. No sooner had his mother picked him back up again and attempted to console the brat, than he hauled off and smacked her full in the face!
Caleb, who was 1 ½ at the time, said what we all were thinking: “Wowwwww.”
Tuesday evening we went for a drive down Shady Lake Road. Rounding a corner, we came upon a big buck right in the middle of the road. A doe had already crossed and was waiting for him in a corn field. He stood and looked at us calmly for a moment or two; then, with two smooth bounds and a leap, he was across the ditch and over the fence. Aren’t whitetails beautiful creatures? Two miles farther on, we saw a bobcat slinking his way stealthily through a harvested field. When we turned and shone our lights on him, he fled, covering ground rapidly in long feline springs and bounces.
The signature stamp which I ordered for my mother for Christmas arrived, and I can hardly wait to give it to her! She sometimes has difficulty even signing her name; her right hand has been troublesome ever since she had a slight stroke a couple of years ago.
I called my brother and sister to tell them what I’d gotten for Mama--just in case they should happen to be as clever as me in dreaming up a good present for her--and Loren said, “Oh! That’s just what we got her!”
“Right,” I responded, “and if you hadn’t have said that, I would’ve been very disappointed; I’d’ve thought you were slipping!”
He laughed. Of course, they hadn’t gotten her anything of the sort.
Thursday night I helped Teddy finish his Industries Report; he did his on aluminum. I find these reports ever so interesting; I learn all sorts of things. A couple of years ago, Hannah did her report on the history of teddy bears. Last year, Dorcas did hers on the postal system. I don’t remember what Keith’s was; diesel engines, probably. Anyway, I cut out the letters ALUMINUM from aluminum foil, along with several stars, and we glued them here and there on Teddy’s posterboard, making it look quite flashy. He typed his report and printed it on a computer at school that has a penchant for putting X’s at the beginning of every line, which makes one’s report look unique, to say the least. Fortunately, the teachers are all aware of this quallyfobble, and politely overlook it.
Larry traded some of our yummy elk meat to a friend of our for some deer sticks (almost like jerky), of all things. (I threatened to trade him in, should he do it again.)
Caleb asked, “Could I have some string meat to go with my string cheese?”
Friday I figured out the perfect thing to do with one whole pound of deer sticks: I put it into potato stew. Mmmmmmmmmmm!!! It was so yummy, I forgave poor Larry for going off with the ground elk meat.
That evening we went to Grand Island. We climbed into the Suburban. Larry handed Victoria across the front seat and over to me--bumping his coffee mug, which was a good third full of cold cappuccino, knocking it over into my lap. But we were already running late, and I didn’t want to take the time to go back into the house and don new attire, so I soaked it up as well as I could with a couple of paper towels. When we got to Grand Island, I decided to change Victoria. This I do on my lap, putting a plastic bag under the baby to, supposedly, save me from a total drenching.
It’s an activity fraught with danger.
You guessed it; I got soaked.
So there I was, traipsing around in a cold, damp gale in a cold, damp skirt. Yuck. (Anyway, at least I didn’t ruin two skirts.)
First, we got a couple of appliques for one of the Christmas dresses--$9 for two ten-inch appliques! Aarrgghh. And then I found a three-inch button with gold scrolls around a mother-of-pearl cameo that I just had to have for my red-sequined top, in spite of the fact it was $4.25. Yi. But I guess that is cheaper than a piece of comparable jewelry.
After that expenditure, I assuaged my conscience by trotting down the sidewalk to the Goodwill, a couple of doors down, where we got a suit--just like new--for Teddy--$6.25, two pairs of pants to go with it--$2.75 each, a pair of pants for Thanksgiving--$2.75, two sweaters and two skirts for the little girls--$1.50 each, two belts--$.75 each, a brand-new dusty pink down-filled coat for Hester for next year--$3.25, and a cookstove--$2.00.
Feeling frugal and quite pleased with ourselves, we headed off to the 24-hour Wal-Mart, where we found some striking navy and white spectator pumps for Hannah, and some wing-tipped, fringed and tasseled dress shoes for Teddy. Those were both on sale for quite a smashing bargain. We’ll soon be all ready for Christmas!
On the way home, we indulged in chocolate/raspberry frozen yogurt and macaroon granola bars.
Meanwhile, Keith, Esther, and Dorcas went to Norfolk, where Keith finished his Christmas shopping and Esther bought herself a skirt and sweater for Thanksgiving.
The children's school pictures arrived. Keith’s is smaller because we got the cheapest set they sell, since I already took his graduation pictures.
Now here is a conversation I overheard as the children were looking at their pictures:
Hannah: “My hair is crooked.”
Dorcas: “My eyes are crooked.”
Teddy: “My grin is crooked.”
Joseph: “My glasses are crooked.”
Hester: “My neck is crooked.”
Lydia: “My dimple is crooked.”
Caleb, who of course had no picture: “My socks are crooked.” (And they were.)
At that point, everybody quit griping and burst into peals of laughter, much to Caleb’s surprise.
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