Thoughtfetti In a Hurry

I was up late sewing - Mum and I have a big stack of sarongs that I'm making into shirts. Most comfortable shirts ever, and if you ever see me, you'll see one, because they're the only top I wear. No kidding, year 'round, I wear these. To the gym. Gardening. To weddings and funerals. Black tie events. I live in these babies. Yep, they're that comfortable.

So I was up late sewing, until my machine started making a noise. Of course it did - I have all of these tops to do, then I'm going this morning to help a friend finish some of her sewing (she sells these tops and also some caftans we make from sarongs), and I just told another friend who sells these shirts that I'd do at least fifteen for her. Mum, being a die-hard sewer, has an emergency back up machine that she's going to bring me, in case mine decides to be done for a while.

Important note - one should have one's sewing machine serviced more than once a decade. Also, one should clean out the lint more often than...oh...never...if one want optimal function. I think I pulled out a fifty-pound lint Sasquatch from the recesses of the bobbin tray.
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In a few minutes I am stuffing Bird into some clothes and rushing out the door to go sew for my friend S at her house - luckily, she doesn't need me to bring my machine after all...I can just use hers. She's making these shirts and gowns, and has a hard time with the necks (they can be slippery little devils, and have been know to cause more than one perfectly competent sewer to cuss like a lonely sailor with a pocket full of money whose Amsterdam leave was just canceled) . I can usually crank out, start to finish, twenty shirts and hour, maybe more...so I shouldn't have any trouble with her stuff, which is good because when I'm done I need to get home (read: fly low), get cleaned up, put on something appropriate for a memorial service, fly back out the door (minus Bird, who will hang with T, because T doesn't do memorial services, funerals, hospitals, or anything sick-or-death related) and drive all the way back down to where I was for the memorial service that I shouldn't have been attending for at least another sixty years.
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My son woke up and started singing the theme from Star Wars. He's never seen it. Umm...should I be worried???
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I figured out that smell. Yeah, umm...it seems that potatoes do interesting things if you leave them to their own devices for too long.
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I absolutely did not feed my child Fig Newtons for breakfast. Nope. Didn't.