Couture Lunacy

Exploring Fashion One Thread At A Time

No Sewing Room Time Today

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Did I get into the sewing room? No I did not. We had the physical therapist in and the speech therapist in and that lasted until almost 3.

For some reason they want me around. I was pleased that DH could say words today for things the speech therapist would point at and start to form the word. He has no trouble understanding – he just can’t remember anything and he can’t generate the word even though he knows it.

She’s going to bring him an alphabet board so he can point to the letters of the word he’s trying to say. That will make communication so much easier. I’ve been around so long I can almost know exactly what he’s saying but sometimes I can’t. And I let her know that English is his third language. That was important because he didn’t learn English until he was 11 going on 12.

He’s still frail as heck. The physical therapist is going to see about a leg brace for his right leg which drags. That’s causing him lots of trouble walking because it catches on everything. He’s going to check with the doctor and see if she thinks that would help.

I’m going to the nursing home for a tour on Tuesday. DH doesn’t want to go and this makes it so hard. I wouldn’t want to go either and I wish there were a way I could say I could keep doing this longer. I already feel guilty. God I wish it would just be easier. He will be better taken care of there – but he doesn’t see that I don’t think. And I won’t have to run all over and have so many chores I can’t keep up. I can’t lift him out of bed or help him off the floor if he falls – I’m big but not strong in that way.

So I didn’t get into the sewing room. It was almost 90 degrees here today – the first hot day we’ve had all year. It went from the 60s to the 90s in a day. Maine‘s like that. We have another couple of days of warm weather and then we’re back to the high 60s, low 70s.

I need to check on the moon – I think it’s full – it feels like it – sewing time tomorrow?


Author: Jennifer

I came from a family who made things. My father was a carpenter with a passion for making furniture. My mother sewed, crocheted, cooked and made a home on a shoestring. My grandmothers both quilted. As a teenager, I found batik through a wonderful art teacher who allowed me the freedom to batik yards of fabric. I then cut them up into a pattern and wore the item I made. I was ecstatic. I painted in my teens and twenties and my parents gracefully supplied me with oil paints and turpentine. When I needed an easel, my father took me to the shop where he worked and made me one. When he found unused and unwanted canvas, he brought it home and stretched it for me with wood from his shop at home. I was indulged at every step of the way. I wasn't ever told that I could not do something or that I should not do something. I was given freedom to chose my path in life. A blessed life I have lived, for sure.

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