Bow Tie Can Tell The Future

Here’s what Bow Tie o’ the Day knows with perfect certainty: Suzanne will get home late from work today, because that’s how she rolls every day. Even with The Ultimate SewingBox waiting for her– which is her dream come true– she will still be the brilliant educator she is, and she will put children first. She pushes herself to excel at her work, with the students always foremost in her mind.

But when Suzanne gets home, she will open up The Ultimate SewingBox you see here. And she will be single-mindedly engaged in the task of filling up The Ultimate SewingBox with her sewing supplies– prepping it for her current list of projects. She will not pass GO. She will not collect $200. ( If you don’t get that reference, I feel really bad for you. And I feel really old.) She will not pay attention to me, nor will she acknowledge Skitter. For her, this whole The Ultimate SewingBox thing is her Christmas morning, as it should be.

For me, watching Suzanne hobby around is like watching a litter of puppies play. You can’t not watch them, and you can’t not relax and smile at how seriously they take their playing. The day Suzanne isn’t sewing or crafting in some way is the day she will no longer be with us. And you can be sure I hope that day never comes.

You know how we’re encouraged to have food storage in case of some natural disaster, or a lost job, or the invasion of green aliens? I think Suzanne has decided she needs to store fabric and thread and sewing machines in case of any of these Armageddons. She’ll be sewing a quilt top, while we’re all fighting our neighbors in the streets for the last of the drinkable water. She will not die with her boots on. She will die cradling a bolt o’ flannel in her arms.

I should probably also pack her a 72-hour kit full of sewing and crocheting implements to carry in the trunk of her car. It’ll make us both feel better about the catastrophic end of the world.