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The end of the year nearly marked the end of my pajamas.
I don't wear pajama tops a lot because except for a few weeks of the year, here, it's just more pleasant not to. My unfamiliarity with wearing them nearly caused a minor disaster this morning. I woke up today with a mild pain in my foot from an eleven pound weight on it and a very annoying discomfort in one hand from being tangled up in some kind of fabric. Although I sometimes get a pain or two from the cat's choice of position on my legs or feet, he is quite warm on a chilly morning. So I do what can not to discourage him from getting up on the bed and on top of me on cold nights. This morning he managed to get on my legs without waking me (He sometimes stomps on them to get me to wake up). So I peacefully woke up, with my feet aching slightly and my hand tangled in what I thought were the covers. Trying not to disturb the cat I tried pushing my hand out of the tangle. There was a great ripping sound. Yikes, did the sheet rip? One of the blankets? No, it was the pajama tops in two directions from one of the buttons. Mergas ferger, sassus frajakle and other thoughts of mild alarm, dismay and disappointment! Well, I soon saw it was repairable. During some months of financial distress approaching poverty when I was about six, my mother taught me how to darn up the holes in my socks. (Do people darn socks these days?) Having both needles and suitable thread, I mended the rips in a suitable if not perfectly beautiful fashion, so the pajamas can be worn for the cold night to come tonight... My mother had a sewing machine, which went to one of my nieces. I put buttons back on shirts and can mend minor rips no one can see. Otherwise I'd never sew. It's just as well I know how to do it by hand.
I don't wear pajama tops a lot because except for a few weeks of the year, here, it's just more pleasant not to. My unfamiliarity with wearing them nearly caused a minor disaster this morning. I woke up today with a mild pain in my foot from an eleven pound weight on it and a very annoying discomfort in one hand from being tangled up in some kind of fabric. Although I sometimes get a pain or two from the cat's choice of position on my legs or feet, he is quite warm on a chilly morning. So I do what can not to discourage him from getting up on the bed and on top of me on cold nights. This morning he managed to get on my legs without waking me (He sometimes stomps on them to get me to wake up). So I peacefully woke up, with my feet aching slightly and my hand tangled in what I thought were the covers. Trying not to disturb the cat I tried pushing my hand out of the tangle. There was a great ripping sound. Yikes, did the sheet rip? One of the blankets? No, it was the pajama tops in two directions from one of the buttons. Mergas ferger, sassus frajakle and other thoughts of mild alarm, dismay and disappointment! Well, I soon saw it was repairable. During some months of financial distress approaching poverty when I was about six, my mother taught me how to darn up the holes in my socks. (Do people darn socks these days?) Having both needles and suitable thread, I mended the rips in a suitable if not perfectly beautiful fashion, so the pajamas can be worn for the cold night to come tonight... My mother had a sewing machine, which went to one of my nieces. I put buttons back on shirts and can mend minor rips no one can see. Otherwise I'd never sew. It's just as well I know how to do it by hand.