So here I am in the sewing room getting ready to finish my dmil’s purse. I’m pinning and pinning and I’m hearing plink, clunk. Now I know it’s not me and it’s not my sewing machine. Pinning doesn’t make that much noise. Apart from the occasional, oh bugger of sticking myself with the, pin.
So I leave my little hobbit hole of a sewing room, head into the office (Ok, so it’s only 8 feet, however when you’re working. . .) and look outside. I see the neighbors boy and his friends throwing snow & rocks onto the metal garages and over neighbors fences. There are all kinds of Christmas decorations, cars, windows and the like between where the boys are and what they’re aiming for.
I thought at first I’d yell outside. Then I’m thinking I’ll go outside. I know the neighbor well enough to know that her kid throwing stuff is not “how she raised him”. So I call over to the house. Dad answers the phone, I mention to dad what’s going on, dad goes outside, calls boys over, has a chat with them, they stop throwing rocks (they really don’t want to go home after all they’re having fun!).
Dad goes in. I’m back in the sewing room by now, continuing pinning. Did I mention that I can’t find my pin cushion? Thats a story for another time.
Anyway, I’m at the sewing machine and I hear one of the boys say, “I didn’t think we’d get caught!” I started laughing! That just tickled me to no end!
On the pin cushion front, this thing is about 6 inches around (3 1/2 across) 3 or 4 inches high and I lose it, pins and all, quite frequently. Oh dear. I’ll go in to the hobbit hole in a few minutes and find the thing!