Mending

I've said before that I hate folding the white batch of laundry. But there is actually a job I loathe more than that. Maybe you read the title of this entry and can guess with accuracy that it is mending. I think, though, that it is kind of love/hate relationship that I have with the mending pile. A month or so ago, Dennis put an enormous stack of jeans in the mending box (and there were already a couple of pairs of Brandon's there.) I procrastinated and put it off and didn’t do it and let it sit and dreaded it and glared at the whole mess for a very long time. Last Wednesday I screwed up my bravery and with a big sigh (or two) sat down to the sewing machine. I zig zagged and zag zigged and zug zagged and worked like a slave. It took me 3 days! But what an awesome feeling to get it all done! Like I'd climbed Mt. Everest or something! I should have taken a picture with my foot on the stack and my arms puffed up. But I would have had to put on makeup. Just use your imagination. The love part of the relationship is the feeling of accomplishment that one gets from doing something hard. I do love that!