These are my new Mimi's vintage rag placemats. They are fun to weave, and wow, are they colorful. I love them. I don't do placemats for days in a row, they are just too tedious. I guess it is the stopping and starting that gets to me. But I am always pleased to see the final product. They are so sturdy, and if I do say so myself, well done. I have taken to weaving a couple of placemats a day, so I can restock my shelves, and I find that doing them a few at a time, I don't mind them so much.
It reminds me of sewing blue jean strips together. That is another essential, and also tedious, job. So I do it in half hour bursts. It doesn't seem like much, but the jean strips add up, and it doesn't seem as overwhelming as sitting down to sew for 8 hours.
Yesterday, I went to get my hair cut, at JC Penney's. I took my 84 year old mother, who lives with us , to do some shopping. She was looking around for some blouses, and I took a pair of blue jeans in to the dressing room to try them on. When I came out, she was gone. I looked around and didn't see her. It occurred to me that maybe she walked back to the salon, to sit down, since she gets tired easily. But when I got back there, she wasn't there. So I checked the ladies' room, which is right across from the salon. Not there, either. I started back across the store, going from one side to the other, checking down each hallway. I still couldn't find her.
I walked all the way back to the salon, and then all the way to the other side of the store, getting a little concerned about where she could be.
Then I saw her, near the dressing room. When I got to her, she was shaking, and near tears. She said she had been there the whole time. Not sure how I missed her, but the damage was done. She was beside herself, and just wanted to go home.
On the way home, she was angry, and kept saying that she couldn't do that anymore.
Later that evening, as I was getting ready to to go upstairs to bed, she came into the living room. She looked like she had something to say. I waited, and eventually she told me that she was sorry about what had happened. I said that I was very sorry that I didn't stay right with her from the beginning, that it would never happen again. She expressed concern that something was wrong with her, something that made her get so upset when she felt herself alone. She cried a little, and I assured her that she was perfectly normal. I don't know how I will feel when I am her age, if I am so lucky.
Then she said what was really on her mind.
"I'm afraid that if I am too much trouble, you will put me in a nursing home."
I hugged her, and reminded her what my father asked me right before he died. He looked at my mother across the table, and then to me, and said, " What about her? Will she be alright?"
And I said, "Yes, she will be alright. I promise."