My oldest son fixed my sewing machine this week, and it's given our whole family peace of mind. They no longer hear the horrendous metallic squeal emanating from my tiny sewing room when I try to make anything. The deafening squeal turned out to be from one of the rods on the very bottom of the machine that a drop or two of oil remedied instantly. I'm so happy my machine is operative again. I don't know if I'll get any more sewing done, but at least now it'll be a pleasurable experience to go in and sew.
On Tuesday, Dad, Mom and I drove done to Rome, PA, to have lunch with Dad's youngest sister, Ruth. Dad and Ruth are the only two Cook "children" remaining of the eleven children of Robert and Edna Cook, who were everyday saints in the eyes of the rest of us. I think all my aunts and uncles (Dad included) have achieved this status also.
I noticed some neat clouds over Nineveh as I drove down to meet up with Mom and Dad.
