‘Twas the Friday Before Christmas


‘Twas the Friday before Christmas, when all through the crib
Not a creature was stirring, not even a kid;
Hubs’ unfinished shirt was thrown aside without care,
In hopes that I might sew buttons on its placket bare;

The children were couched all snug in their screens,
Transfixed by seasonal television beams;
And Hubs in his bike gear, and I in my jams,
Had just settled in to attend to the evening’s bedlam,


IMG_8573When suddenly an impulse, a whim.
And I raced up the stairs limb over limb.
Away to the sewing nook I few like a crazy,
Seizing a few moments of family members’ lazy.

The moon glinted off the gently falling snow,
The first almost-white almost-Christmas my children would know
When what to my wondering eyes should transpire
But a brand new dress, my true sewing desire.


IMG_8571With an easy fit, so loose and so breezy
I knew, upon reflection, it must be un-sleevy.
More rapid than eagles my sewing shears cut
As I divorced myself from my Christmas sewing rut

Now, Bernina! now, linen! now pattern instructions!
On, shears! on bobbin! on steam iron and notions!
To the sewing table! to the ironing board!
To the eave of the attic where these things are stored!


IMG_8558Using a borrowed machine, I was nervous,
A temporary replacement for my Nova that requires some service.
I rationalized to sew Hubs’ shirt would be dumb
Until this machine and I were acquainted some

And then, seam by seam, a dress took shape,
The last of my Christmas sewing could just wait.
A bit of trouble, the inseam pockets perplexed me
Until I properly matched the pattern pieces that had vexed me.



It was flow-y and loose from nape to knee
It was a shade of yellow that pleasing to me
The pockets, once confounding, now delighted
As to the washing machine I then alighted

Horror – o horrors! The interfacing came off!
All the facings! they all separated in the wash!
Back to the machine I trudged in dismay
To repair this dress in time to wear Christmas day.

Quick and satisfying this dress was a respite
From other projects Father Christmas demanded, the despot
My mother exclaimed, I was feeling so nifty,
When I opened the door: “We wore those in the 60’s!


Pattern: Farrow Dress, Grainline Studios
View A
Size: 8
Fabric: Linen from Jo-Ann


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