Several years ago, I was contracted to sew some shirts for someone's daughter. She was involved in rodeos, needed Western shirts, and liked her gear to look flashy. I just sew as I'm told. So after all my work of painstakingly matching flames and perfectly sewing and finishing seams, she never picked up or paid for the shirt, and I was left with it and all the fabric for the other shirts she had ordered.
Here it is, in all its blazing glory. Any bids? Women's size small. Some would think it hot with black jeans.
I had been wanting to sew a pair of pajamas for Owen. I have made pajamas for three nephews so far and nightgowns for two nieces and for Helen. But I couldn't find the right fabric.
Then I remembered the stash I had from the un-sewn Western shirts, and thought maybe the fabric would be cuter with a different interpretation...Owen wasn't terribly enthused. We had to make him wear them, since he likes his tractor pajamas and his dinosaur pajamas. We refer to these new ones as his pimp jammies (not in front of him!) The poor kid might be scarred for life, because we laughed so hard the first time we saw him in them. They're pretty oversized for him, and Jason commented it looked like a zoot suit.
On another, sicker note, we have had what we presume to be the flu. Jason caught it somewhere last week, then brought it home to share with the rest of us. I do not get sick very often, and I was willing my way through this one. But Saturday night, I woke up freezing, feverish and feeling like I had hopped in front of a swinging wrecking ball. Sheer misery. I briefly thought, "Lord, take me home."
Helen woke up Sunday morning looking like I felt. The two of us just sort of pathetically existed yesterday. And now Owen woke up with a fever and a cough this morning, although he still wanted his moatmeal and a peppermint and a cookie. Helen is still sleeping, as of 9:17, so she probably is not back to normal yet.
And to make matters worse, I ran out of coffee this morning. Sheer misery.