Friday, November 14, 2008

One down, one to go!

Well, since hubby was home for a chunk of nap time today, I took the opportunity to finish Charlotte's painting smock. Why does he need to be home if it is nap time anyway? Because I am genetically incapable of ironing (I know I've blogged about this before!) Last night at Mass, Father asked if someone could wash and iron the altar cloths before the Archbishop comes on Saturday...the church secretary kept gesturing to me trying to get me to volunteer...but I burn, not iron...and really I'm not so great at the laundry anyway! However, hubby is very good at ironing (I don't know where he gets it...his mom is better than I am, but not much). Of course, years ago I was commenting on how much I don't like to iron and how hubby doesn't mind, so he does the ironing in front of hubby's grandma (yes, Whimsy...the same one who can't stand dirty glasses...) Well, for Christmas that year hubby's grandma got him a no iron shirt because I don't iron for him so he doesn't have to do it.

So, I sew...and he irons as needed. Here are the results. First, of course, the wonderfully crafty smock made for me more than 25 years ago by my (single and childless) great aunt. Then, of course is my cheap imitation which looks like it was made by two drunk baboons (which is what most craft and home improvement projects look like around here!) My stitches are wildly erratic, my cuts are not so fabulous...but it is done...and it's a painting smock, so I guess I really should be glad that it is not my Mona Lisa...


Christine said...

They are both beautiful! I love the smock you made too, it has it's own flair, and lots of love and that's all that matters. I can't even sew a hem, so I am very impressed.

Anonymous said...

I think it is really cute. And it is done before Christmas. What more could you ask for? Happy Birthday, Charlotte!


Whimsy said...

He gets it from Uncle G. Uncle G put himself through college by ironing classmates' shirts.

I have this from his telling me, but I don't recall ever seeing him at an ironing board in my entire childhood.

It is inconceivable to me that any college student would require ironing. I can only conclude that he went to college during the stone-age.