Oh. You. Doubters.
You think I haven't even been thinking of sewing. That I've been loafing. Or baking cookies. Or polishing my nails. Or doing calculus.
But. You are so very wrong. Very. I went to see a woman who once taught tailoring at the local community college. (The joys of small-town life: I knocked on her door. Right on her door. Didn't know her last name. Didn't know her phone number. But I did have her address.) Now, as it happened, she was not at home. But her hubby invited me in, and we had a lovely chat. Seems he loves to repair clocks. She loves to sew. Does so two or three nights a week. But. Those are details that you don't want to know. Long story short: After playing phone tag for several days, we spoke at last. She is willing to help me, albeit on a very casual basis. (Just call, if I'm home, you can come by, you can sew on my machine. Et cetera. Small time life.)
So. This is good. Very, very good. Splendiferous even. I think I shall call Monday. Tuesday at the latest.