Tomorrow

Tomorrow we buy a house.

This house.

We. Can't. Wait.

T-Shirt Rescue

Ever buy one of those way-too-big-for-you t-shirts? Mine were collected on vacations when I wanted to remember the trip and decided that a men's medium-size t-shirt was the perfect souvenir. I was a pretty lanky child and these T's were quite big on me then. I never did grow into them (did I think I would?) and they are just as billowy on me now as they were then. 

I'm nostalgic about things like this, though, and can't quite bring myself to toss these in the Goodwill box. So I found a solution to rescue them. I created a wrap shirt! It will be perfect for a little extra layer in the summer evenings, or would even work as a beach cover-up.

Step 1:
Cut the t-shirt up the middle of the front.

See how wide this t-shirt is!?

Step 2:
Put the shirt on and decide where you want to fasten it back together. Draw a pencil line around the collar to indicate where to cut. You're going to trim the collar off.

Step 3:
Cut out the collar. 

Step 4:
Put the shirt back on and double check your fastening location. Mark it on both panels.

I actually ended up putting my button slightly lower than this.

Step 5:
Sew on a button on the inner panel at the place you marked.
Cut a button-hole on the upper panel at the place you marked.

Step 6:
Try on your masterpiece!

I was going to reinforce all the cut edges, or at least hem them. I suppose still could do that. But this project was incredibly easy without that step.

PS: Here's the awesome t-shirt back, and the reason I wanted to rescue this T from Goodwill doom.

Not a Sparrow Falls, Epilogue

As we pulled into the driveway after burying Shasta, I saw the sudden, bright spark of my first firefly of the summer. We took a walk, watching for little firebugs. On our way back to the house, somebody was waiting behind the lilac bush for us. It was Jasper!

Little night face.

She's not ours. I think she belongs to a neighbor. But she comes to visit sometimes. Usually Jaspie doesn't like to be picked up or cuddled, but on this night, after I gave her a good rub while she lay in the grass, she let me pick her up and carry her back to the house.

She felt so thick and warm and strong. She purred and looked around wide-eyed when I carried her into the porch. I put her down and went inside to get a dish of milk, which she lapped up eagerly. Then she trotted purposefully away and sat down to clean her paws and face while I watched from the stoop.

Jasper was just exactly what I needed tonight. She will never replace Shasta; she's not even mine, after all. But after saying goodbye to my seventeen-year companion, a little snuggle with Jasper did ease the ache a little.

And that's why I call this post "Not a Sparrow Falls." Shasta was a small creature, insignificant enough to be "sold for a penny." But he did not die without God's notice and his death's impact on me did not escape God's notice either. He gave me a little hour with Jasper because "not one of [these creatures] is forgotten by God." What a comfort it is to know that my God cares about these little sadnesses and orchestrates little joys to help soothe the sorrowing heart.