Well, the weekend came and went. We are still commuting and may not get moved until the end of March. So we are going to approach this a different way.
I’m a true southerner at heart: Children should use Mr. or Mrs. and a last name unless that individual says otherwise; little boys shouldn’t cover there knees until they are six and they should wear Peter Pan collars and double buckle shoes; grits are supposed to be smooth, not runny not lumpy, and cooked for a long time to get that way; never wear white after labor day or before Easter; all babies should be baptized in gowns, even baby boys; children should dress appropriately according to where they are - school clothes for school, church clothes for church, play clothes for play, and party clothes for parties and other special occasions. This just begins the list (and in no particular order). The clothes - it’s tradition! Take a good look at the original drawings of A. A. Milne’s books, Christopher robin is a traditionally dressed boy. (The new printings he’s been changed into tennis shoes and T-shirts.)
Fortunately, at the new church we are moving to the children look like there are supposed to be at church. But that wouldn’t matter anyway - it’s my children I’m referring to not anyone else’s. Easter is just around the corner and I haven’t even been able to plan there Easter outfits. Why is this bothering me? I guess because it matters to me. Easter is when we bring out our new duds for the spring and summer. Not to show off, but to put on our finest for a special day. Now there are those who say every Sunday is a special day - they are right; I won’t argue that. But the church year is one my family chooses to celebrate. We celebrate the life of Christ, He was born, He died, He rose again. Christmas is important - I love the Advent and Christmas season. I pull out the celebratory and seasonal duds then too. Christmas was when my Saviour came to earth as a man. He took human form. Most people celebrate Christmas; most people don’t have a problem with the Christian Christmas season. Why? Because no one minds looking at a cute little baby. But why did he come? I greatly dislike those plaques that say “Jesus is the reason for the season.” Jesus isn’t the reason for the season; Easter is the reason for the season! Don’t get me wrong; if there wasn’t going to be an Easter then there would be no real reason for Him to come. He came to dies on the cross, but more importantly to rise again - to conquer death, sin. Easter! Can there be a more rejoice-ful season (or reason) than that?
What’s my point? Well, I guess I’m through preaching (for now) I’ll leave that to my hubby from now on, or at least try to leave it to him. I have made my children’s Easter outfits every year since they were born. I’ve made money for others by doing the same. This year I have not made one stitch of clothing for my children or anyone else. Why? Well, first of all I’m too busy packing and finding us a house to live in and travelling. I’ve had to pack away my sewing room to get everything else ready to move - I needed the space. They also don’t have any true church clothes at all. My sons do. I caught a good sale just before Christmas for the older one and then I have some things for the baby that are still in great condition - hand me downs from the older son. Seasonally, the hand-me-downs from number one girl aren’t fitting number two girl. And number two girl and number three girl are practically wearing the same size. Girl number one just isn’t going to wear clothes meant for a teenager or young adult. A nine year old girl should still look like a nine year old child.
I guess I’ve ranted and raved enough tonight. I don’t even know if there was any connective flow to that, just my own thoughts leading on to other thoughts and so on. If only you knew how many rabbit trails I kept myself from writing. I debate with myself all the time about being Adult ADD or am I just an extremely busy mother of five (both adults in this house are). I used to be very well organized, everything had it’s place. Mother will tell you a different story, but as an adult, with my own space I always had a place for everything. Then I got married - nothing has it’s own space now. Not because of being married, but because of being married. The merger of two people’s things, then three, then four, then five, then six, then seven, then… So I am being very brutal about what gets moved and what doesn’t. Once I get moved I’ll continue being brutal about what gets kept. I’ve got wedding gifts that I’ve never used, still in boxes because they couldn’t be exchanged - that was over eleven years ago!
I can’t seem to get much finished these days. Too many things need to get done.
OK, see - I was signing off when I started this.
Being gone this weekend kept me from posting more of the beloved Daisy. Sorry.
In Memorium - Part V, tomorrow.
{ 2 comments }
Hey Rae, Rambling yet good post. You are joining a group of ladies who believe the same things you do as far as southerness goes. I am trying to figure out what Stephen is going to wear for Easter this year. I also grew up with a special new outfit every Easter. White patent leather shoes, frilly socks, dress with sash, ringlet hair, little purse and even sometimes a hat. It was a big deal. We always took family pictures after church and then changed into special new play outfits for the afternoon’s barbeque and egg hunt. (usually with all 6 of us girl cousins in two seperate age groups matching) It is different with a little boy and I will have do some research to figure out what his special outfit this year will be. It was easier last year when he was still a baby. Next year I would definitely like to get in on sewing with you to make said special outfits. I am sorry for your continued frustration with being stuck between two cities. We missed seeing you in church this morning. I am looking forward to when ya’ll are totally situated here and I can drop in and chat anytime! We are praying for ya’ll and let us know how we can help, Adrienne
Mercy, that was deep. Sock-it-to-him, Smock-a-rama. Y’all are too crafty for me.
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