They called about 30 mins ago wanting to check on Dewey and see why he missed his appointment at PT this morning.
Ugh. We just "discussed" this last night. He didn't know when the appts were this week, and I only vaguely recalled having a schedule card flashed in my face last week...by Dewey himself, no less.
I said I thought it was Tuesday-Wednesday-Friday. He didn't have a clue, just that he knew it was 3 days and that he had SHOWN me the card.
I think he's too confident in my scheduling and recall ability. He just likes to know he's doing what he needs to, when he needs to. Forget the details of life...like appt times and all that. The man can run a multi-million dollar hospital job from dirt to shadow-testing automatic lights outside at the end of the job, but he can't remember his own doctor appts :o(
So, we rushed out the door and here I sit, getting finger cramps typing on the cell phone.
What I *was* doing involved fabric and patterns. We cut out several bonnets the past few days, doll size clear up to adults, using every bit of fabric I found that looked "sellable" here in my neck of the woods. We're doing several sizes in each run of material...I'm thinking I could sell the ultra-color-coordinated 'yuppies' around The big town here a matching set for their young girl and her doll, maybe even Mom, too. Folks around 'town' are all about extreme color-coordination and matching stuff here. Nothing wrong with that, but my idea of color-coordination is just don't pair purple with orange.
I'm very much lacking in the fine art of Southern Gentlewoman dressing. I know. Shocked, aren't you? My purse is my purse...it doesn't change and rarely matches my shoes. I don't coordinate a top to a bottom, or my shoes to the outfit or seasonal color schemes. I just dress. I try not to go weird, but I don't spend time pairing things. I'm a square peg in this round world.
In fact, my mother...my own flesh and blood...commented over the weekend about how my children never have been slaves to fashion. Actually, I believe the remark was more along the lines of how my children totally lacked in anything color-coordinating...and they never have cared much for 'convention' when it comes to clothing.
This came from my sharing the Miss Emily wanted to get outside with the others to play so she dressed herself in outside clothing...you know, suitable for mud and timber playing. Well, she passed while I talked to Grandma on the phone and I relayed her clothing choices: a pink princess PJ top, in flannel, no less. A pair of bloomers. A pink, sized-too-small old tennis shoe on one foot (the wrong foot, of course) and one dress shoe with a buckle strap (also on the wrong foot).
And totally content she was to go out and face the world. Young David has, in a fury of wanting to be FIRST outside to something, done similar...right down to grabbing bloomers if his broadfalls aren't handy enough.
This is why we live in the rural beyond. I know I talk about prepping, survivalism and EMP's wiping out the world as we know it and how being rural is the only serious chance for making life remotely comfortable in those *after* days of modern society.
But it's all really just a smoke screen for keeping my well-dressed children away from the eyes of the Dept of Children's Services. With the color-coordination that goes on around my neck of the woods, I'm pretty sure there spis some weird law on the books about being in public view the way my children dress sometimes.
back to sewing bonnets
Extending the chicken run
Repairing some goat fencing issues
Pulling down a temp wall between barn pens
And deciding on the week's menu!