Scary Men and a crying baby

I've had this Teddy bear since I was born. The quilt was made out of my baby clothes.

Yesterday escaped and I didn't give you a story. Todays flashback takes place in the same house and still in the 70's.  This one is a scary one so grab your Teddy bear to hug.

My room faced the backyard,it was a large spacious room that I love and still miss to this day. In the closet was a secret door in the floor that lead to the under belly of the house. A place where the most silky and soft dirt lived. My sister and I would climb through it often. I actually thought we were the only ones to know it existed. I had my toy box over it,so that no one would find the door. Silly Girl!

Ok,on to the story.

It was in the evening and already dark outside when I went into my room after my shower. I had super long,thick, straight hair and my mom would make me wear the towel turban until it was dry enough to drag a comb through. Like all little girls,I would pretend my towel was a crown or sometimes a a fancy hair style.

 I was modeling my beehive when I heard a baby crying. I thought it was odd that a baby would be outside  and I went over to the window and carefully pulled back the pink and orange curtain (it was the 70's!) to look outside. There he was! A man standing outside my window. I screamed,closed the curtain and my mom came running. I told her there was a baby crying and a man in the backyard. She went and got my dad who was out front with a friend and he came in looked out my window and said there wasn't anyone there.

Little while later I heard the baby crying again and this time it sounded so close! Carefully, again I pulled back the curtain and lo and behold the man was there again. I shut the curtain and screamed,or maybe I screamed and shut the curtain. Mom came running,went and got dad blah blah blah. I insisted there was a man out there,so Dad went and got his gun and he and his friend checked the backyard and the alley and couldn't find anyone.

No man and no baby and no explanation as to why I saw a man and heard the baby.

Dad went back to what he was doing and I was in my room and again there was the baby crying and crying. Third time's a charm right? This time I was determined to get a good look at this man. The man that I knew for a fact that was in my backyard staring at my room.

I sucked up my courage and slowly opened the curtain and yep there he was. I wasn't going to scream. I was going to yell at him to go away.

Hey wait a minute!

Why is that man wearing a beehive like mine? Oh Oh that wasn't a man, it was my reflection in the glass distorted from the fogged up window and my bedroom light. I closed the curtain and peeked again,yep it was me the whole time! I never told my mom or dad who the man was. I thought I would get in trouble.

And the crying baby?

It was a cat.

A cat and my reflection,isn't it wonderful how our minds work when we are little? To this day I hate when cats make that noise and I still occasionally get startled by the man outside my window.

Did I ever tell you the story?

I like stories,

 I like telling them even more. I have on more than one occasion been told that I should be a Storyteller.      When the kids were younger and being rowdy in the backseat I would turn the radio to classical music and tell them a story that was brought about by what ever music was playing. That would calm them down enough to keep me from driving the car straight into a wall. I was in the car not too long ago with my almost,21 year old and he asked why I didn't tell "radio" stories anymore. I was surprised he remembered.

So, I thought for the fun of it,I would tell some stories this week. My goal,if I can keep it will be to tell you a story everyday this week. Let's see how that goes. 

Today's story is a Sewing story that takes place, oh lets say, around 1973 give or take a year. We'll just say I was around 7 years old. It is one of the earliest memories I have about sewing. 

I have always had a love of Art and Sewing and have some created some "odd" things in my life time. I can't honestly say that I was "professionally" trained at anything. 

I'm the kind of girl that  makes it up as I go along .

I clearly remember the scene of this story. I grew up in Norwalk, California which sits in Los Angeles County.  It is the house that I loved more than any of the houses I had ever lived in. It had a glorious Green plum tree,and a juicy white peach tree and avocado trees for climbing,falling out of and breaking arms in(that happily was not me,but my little sister,and not once but twice!)

I loved that little house that sat on a busy street corner.

 It is the house in my dreams. 

This particular morning,my mom had a few pairs of my dads old jeans that she was cutting the legs off of to turn them into shorts.

 That is when INSPIRATION struck!

It was at that very moment that  I decided that I needed a Bikini! Not just any old Bikini,but a

  Denim Bikini!

 In my mind it was going to be the best denim bikini ever created.

 For sure Paris would be calling asking to see this Haute Bikini!

I asked my mom what she was going to do with the parts of the leg she cut off and if I could have them. Luckily she handed them over and into my room I ran. 

Having the cut offs was a start,now I needed scissors and a machine and perhaps a pattern.

I went back to my mother with my list of wants and needs only to be

Denied!

I was too young to use the machine,needles were too sharp and she didn't have a "Denim Bikini" pattern to lend me. I did get some rather dull scissors though.

I headed back to my room feeling somewhat defeated until.....

Inspiration took hold. Necessity is the Mother of Invention! I remember that quote from somewhere. 

I came to the conclusion that a needle was only a way to make holes in the fabric for the thread to go through. 

I thought for a bit and remembered there was something else that could make holes for the thread to go through. Happily I ran off to the garage where I knew there was the perfect device for making holes and with Dad asleep I could "borrow" them without him ever knowing.

Those Denim Bikini making tools are what we now refer to as,a 

Hammer and Nail.

Yes, kids I sewed that Denim Bikini with a hammer and a nail!

I had the hole making issue taken care of,that left the thread issue or the lack of it. 

So again I thought about it. 

and again the Muses were looking fondly down at me.

Dental Floss! 

It is thread like and stringy and stuff and strong! Have you ever fought with a piece trying to cut it off the spool? 

Sheesh!

A pattern was now the only thing missing from my High Fashion goals. Bikini bottoms were just like undies weren't they? Why couldn't undies be used as a pattern? So,using a Cornflower Blue crayon I traced out the bottoms. The top was a little trickier,a 7 year old has no use for a bra and therefore there wasn't one around to use as a pattern. Somehow I arrived at the use of triangle shapes for the top and long strips for the ties.

I gathered my cut out pieces and headed out to the garage to start "sewing" placing the nail along the edges and hammering until I got a hole. When I was satisfied with all my sewing holes I went back in to my orange and purple room(hey! it was the 70's and shag carpet was groovy man) to finish  my masterpiece. 

I pushed the dental floss through each hole tying the ends into tight knots. After what seemed like forever, I was finally finished. 

I was ready to show the world my beautiful Denim Bikini. I put it on and sauntered into the livingroom where my mother was still working and said in my small model voice

"Behold the beautiful Denim Bikini"

and like Heidi Klum on the cat walk

I strutted my bad self on out to the backyard.

Head held high and feeling like I owned the world

until

the dental floss snapped, the bottoms fell apart 

and

Ricky Hammond, the kid next door got an eyeful.

Luckily that wasn't the last of my sewing adventures,

just the worst that I can remember.

I hope you enjoyed my Creative Faux pas for today

I think tomorrow's adventure will be;

The man in the backyard and the crying baby.