like my mother

D sold another bowl this week to a woman who wants to give it to her sister as a Christmas gift.  Because he appreciates the sentiment, he asked that I make an extra special bag to put it in (I make the bags for the bowls, see).  So I decided to line the plain white cotton bag with a super soft felt material.  It turned out to be quite lovely, if I don’t say so myself.

What I loved the most, though, was not the bag itself, but the feeling I had of being so like my mother at 6 o’clock this morning while hemming the edges with the final stitches in my furry green bathrobe and morning breath.  

What is it with me and morning breath (see Waking Up)?

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