tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802383793115052976.post5040123744090263666..comments2023-10-31T06:54:12.789-07:00Comments on My Life As a Daughter: Sewing in the MorningLisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02086101058759923788noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802383793115052976.post-13994667197593574962009-09-09T06:27:38.662-07:002009-09-09T06:27:38.662-07:00You know,Lisa. These are classic symptoms. My fath...You know,Lisa. These are classic symptoms. My father used to keep looking for his motorcycle, and he never even had one. We'd convinced him it was in the garage downstairs, and luckily he never asked us to show it to him.<br /><br />Take care, girl. And hang on there.Natashahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00481081735923606868noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802383793115052976.post-816096474731112302009-08-14T18:25:52.748-07:002009-08-14T18:25:52.748-07:00We had a really old one growing up. You had to pu...We had a really old one growing up. You had to pump it with your foot to make it work. I would love to know more about what she thought; what she was making, for whom, etc. But its hard to get information from her when she is in that state. I often try!Lisahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02086101058759923788noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3802383793115052976.post-12754857293716179782009-08-14T17:45:55.536-07:002009-08-14T17:45:55.536-07:00I bet she had a singer featherweight in mind. Lik...I bet she had a singer featherweight in mind. Like the one I have. Dan's is too modern :-)Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16271812630353300740noreply@blogger.com