Repairs

I spent part of the afternoon repairing McDad's dressing gown to wear, the one that McMum made for him. It is made from light-brown scratchy herringbone wool. McDad liked light brown scratchy things: maybe it was the Presbyterian in him. He had his own special plain light brown scratchy towel for years, while the rest of us moved on from threadbare holey ones to John Lewis specials. He also (sacrilege to reveal) had his own special oblong white china Izal scratchy toilet paper holder in the bathroom, which came in handy for comb-and-tissue-paper kazoo making. 

Maybe that's the root of my music making! 

Anyway- I put  patch on a hole in the lining (Yes! A lining! That is true love!), sewed up the torn hem, sewed the button back on and steamed it to get rid of any remaining moths (it has a slew of random punctures). It's very warm and it was good therapy to fix it.

I've got McDad's gardening hat too, but I don't think I'll wear that. It's as flat as a pancake in a drawer full of used clothes that belonged to various members of my family. I'm not sure if it's an archive or a hoard. My great grandmother's wedding dress in in there, and the little jumpers that I knitted for the Offsprogs when they were little. All handmade.

When McDad died I felt it in my whole body, which was completely unexpected. I sat in the same chair for two days, looking out of the window. Then I wrote this song there by the window, and sang it into my computer. It was a remarkably healing experience to be able to describe our Dad in such a clear way. I know McMum used to play it from time to time, which is the best validation anyone could have. Merry Christmas to McMum and McDad, and also to everyone whose parents have passed away. I hope your memories are happy, or at least that you are able to remember the happy bits.

https://soundcloud.com/mccookerybook/the-song-of-the-landsmans-soul