Y'all.

Yesterday, the first day of fall, the temperature dropped like a stone.  

It is 65 degrees on the back porch this morning.  

After almost a month of near-100-degree weather, a light jacket sounds good.

It is bliss.

* * * * * * * *

Kudos to me for not forgetting to pick up the Little Rotten Baby from school yesterday.  

School pickup is a ballet, of sorts.  A well-oiled machine.  Get in the right lane, and it's smooth sailing.  I got there early to claim a place in the front of the line so that the LRB wouldn't have to search too hard for my car.  When the kids started pouring out the door, I stepped out onto the sidewalk so she could see me.  

She came a-runnin' when she saw me.  We hugged and got in the car.

She talked ALL.  THE.  WAY.  HOME.

The music teacher gave the class some eggs - not chicken eggs like you eat - but COLORED eggs - to roll on the floor and it made noise and we shook them . . . .

I remember my very first music lesson in school.  First grade.  30 kids.  We sat at our desks while an old, fat lady (she was probably 50) drew five lines across the chalkboard, all at once, with a chalk holder that held FIVE PIECES OF CHALK.  This is all I remember of the lesson.

Anyway . . . . 

The first thing the LRB said when we walked in the door was, "Let's do something."

She rolled some clay through the pasta machine a few times, then pointed at the sewing machine and said, "I really want to do THAT."

She's been wanting to do THAT for some time now.  All three of her sisters have done THAT.  

She had it all worked out in her head; she would sit in my lap while I ran the pedal.  But guiding the fabric was her job.  

I told her the story about the time I sewed ALL THE WAY THROUGH my pinkie finger.  

She picked her fabric from the scrap bin.  She picked out her thread.  She the presser foot.  We put a piece of practice fabric under the needle.

When the first few stitches happened, the child absolutely giggled with delight.  I showed her the "pretty" stitches (she picked "hearts"), but she liked the straight stitches best.  

It didn't take long for her to make me get up so SHE could run the pedal.  She had to stand up to do it.  Her face was about level with the machine.  She wanted to sew two pieces together.  Then three.  Then four.  

She's got this.

She did not want to stop when it was time to go home.  

She took her creation with her.  

I know what she'll want to do the next time she comes over.

Granddaughter #3 came in while we were in the sewing room.  Her science teacher belches out loud, and the whole room stinks, and she doesn't know if it's because of the burps, but they all think she's pregnant.

Girls have a lot of information.