Saga of a Shirt

 Thank you, God, that Fio grew up in the days when Singer Sewing Machine taught teen-age girls how to sew because one of her nice (old) shirts developed a rip yesterday and she knew exactly how to deal with it--head for the closet in her studio, where, during the move, she had stored all her aging sewing regalia. All Fiorella figured she had to do was locate an appropriate needle and a spool of purplish thread, then set to work. Her only problem was that the lingering remains of her stupid carpal tunnel made it difficult to manage the needle.

(And by the way, Fio's transportation to the sewing class when she had been a teenager had, of course, been courtesy of the Jewish mothers brigade, to which Fiorella owes so much.)

As it turned out, Fiorella had more trouble ahead of her--the fabric was old and it was hard for your girl's half-blind left eye to find the way to the needle, even with one of those tin-foil helpers. Worst of all, the patch she was working on refused to cooperate: as soon as Fio fixed one area the fabric developed even more problems. Finally, your girl threw in the towel--thread, needle, tin-foil helper, and all.  

Not that it means Fio is tossing her equipment. There's still plenty of virgin fabric in her sewing closet and one of these days, Fiorella will make use of it one way or another.