School is wearing me down. I have almost finished a sample dress in muslin with a lining made from an original (yes, I made it kinda original) pattern. Whew, I'm really just wishing that this were all a bad dream. Unfortunately when one of my professors told me I'd be having nightmares where she was asking me about my homework, she was correct. I'm trying to learn to use my time wisely, but with other people living in the same house it's increasingly difficult. I put up a sign on my door that said "SEWING! DO NOT DISTURB!" and my seven and ten-year-old sisters stood at the door and I could hear them whispering:

Nece: She put up a SIIIIGN?!

Monnie: I guess. It says "do not dis-turb." What's "disturb" mean?

Nece: I don't know! Knock!

This is of course when I swing the door open and say "WHAT?!" in my most dangerous voice. And Monnie shrinks a little and says "Um, well, what does disturb mean?"

"It means leave me alone don't knock on my door don't come near my door!!" I said very quickly (no commas.)

Monnie looked at me a minute, I suppose judging exactly how upset I would get if she opened her mouth again. Then, "Well, I had something to ask you!"

I realize now that I was wasting time, but I asked first "Is it important?" The answer was yes. "Okay," I said "what is it?"

"Can I have a piece of the cake downstairs?"

I'm ashamed to say that I blew up. In actuality I listened for a brief moment to my sewing machine humming in the background, studied Monnie's eyes a second, glanced at my ceiling, all while the good and evil argued in my head about whether to throw her down the stairs. To this day I have no idea which one won, but I yelled "That's NOT important! I'M BUSY! Where is momma? Do you have any idea how much work I have to do? Do you want me to get an F?

Monnie stood uncertain for all of three minutes while I deep breathed, with the look on her face only she gets, something between complete calm, unease, mental debate, and indecisiveness. Now that I think about it she was probably trying to decide which question to answer first. Her decision was a dumb one.

"Momma is in Sarah's room..." she said in her little voice (it's so cute when I'm not mad.)

"Well," I said with the calmness that comes before and after storms, and directly before a hurricane "why don't you ask her ok?"

Isn't it strange that all this time Nece was conveniently located somewhere else, and unfair that they both pranced downstairs to cake while Monnie was the brave one? This is my life, and it's not at all funny while it's happening, only afterwards. Monnie knocked on my door about four more times that day in case you're wondering if I traumatized her :)

Lizzi