An afternoon that I could not have imagined. Herself was shocked nearly into speech. Spurs Fan hid outside, weeding.
I gathered the bits to sew elastic onto dancing pumps. It takes weeks to get round to, minutes to do. The girls had claimed some of the lion fur material for themselves, and decided to be creative. ‘Mummy, can you teach me to sew?’ (If you listen carefully you will hear the sound of everyone who knows me laughing heartily.)
Now I admire crafy types, those who can rustle up a cushion or a dress, but nobody could ever accuse me of being deluded regarding my own skills in that area. When at primary school I spent Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, for years, failing to knit scarf and glove sets (a teeny purse resulted) or to sew a straight line. It took me a year to make an A-line skirt, during which time my classmates had created full, probably even stylish for the mid seventies, wardrobes. My ineptitude has stayed with me. In fairness, I’ve made no attempt to overcome it (scarred, you see) and sewing elastic on to dance shoes is about as good as it gets.
Girl1 got stuck into designing and making a fur purse, with a flap, button and a securing loop. No half measures with that one. I threaded the needle, made a few stitches and off she went. As I sat down with the pumps, Girl2 wandered in and decided to join in. She was going to make a furry handbag. It appears Girl2 may have an challenging combination of perfectionism and um… there’s a polite way of saying this… a different skill set. I know the latter too well, and am not a bit sorry she doesn’t have to lose heart and hope two afternoons a week for another three years of primary school. We muddled through here; she may not reach the murky depths of awfulness that I have, and, of course, she hasn’t been scarred yet. The task of sewing elastic on took much longer than anticipated because of the passing on of domestic skills. Girls had a lot of fun. I retired to bed.
No lion costume was made that day for the ballet show. As life unfolded and I had to spend time at the hospital with Herself, the chances of me making time to stich/ staple fur on to a tshirt receded. Spurs Fan had a wise and wonderful thought- a stroke of genius. The local dressmakers were easily persuaded to be creative rather than simply turn up trousers. A lion costume resulted. The happiest lion in the pride.
Pride and joy.
(No, you wouldn’t have resisted that one)
The show took place in a local church hall on a Saturday afternoon. There were 3 year olds, awed by being on stage, 6 year olds who waved all the time, little brothers shouting at performing sisters. Girl2 and her class, dancing to Carnival of the Animals, seemed quite grown up.
Of course, we had spent weeks singing this when discussing the ballet show. Girl2 got past her annoyance at us eventually and joined in merrily. (Don’t even pretend you resisted)