Came home. Sewed. Sewed. Looked for old black shirt. Found substitute black shirt (brand new). Callie cut the cuffs off. Pinned harness. Tried on. Tested wings. marked PVC pipe. Sewed harness. Walked dogs. Hemmed shirt sleeves.
Quit work, cussing.
We have one whole night and one "eleventh hour" night to finish this.
Meanwhile I finished reading A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck.
I wish they'd made me read this book when I was a pre-teen. I'd have enjoyed it just as much, plus I wouldn't have suffered the embarrassment of crying my eyes out in the bathroom at work. (Lunch break.)
I can't describe this--it's about a Shaker boy coming of age in the 1930s. He and his father--and his pig--have the sort of close, love-filled relationship that breaks your heart. I'll never read it again--it hurt too much the first time. I'll never forget it.
Setting aside the handkerchief for a minute--why were the women so out of the picture? Yeah, they were old. And yeah, the sisters were wedded and gone. But old people can work. Why weren't they growing a garden? In Little House in the Prairie, Laura's mother grew a garden. Farming women--in America--traditionally fed the family from the garden. Where was the garden?
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