I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

She, whose name is Yvette, has been sticking needles in my arm for 25 years and I’ve yet to feel a pin prick or see a spot of blood in all that time.

She is our doctor’s nurse.  As such, we turn to her for all things “needle-ish” and trust there will be no pain.  So far, so good.

Her mother died recently.  It was a big loss for her. She knew she wanted to honor her mother’s life in some way.  But how?  “Needles,” she quietly said to herself.  Why not do something with needles? She’s good with needles and her mother had been a seamstress for most of her life.

And POOF! Just like that, Yvette’s small business took off.

Somehow, somewhere, she finds unique, beautiful, colorful fabrics and turns them into comfortable, stylish, fun things to wear.  The needles on her sewing machine, with her guidance, are performing miracles. 

Her pants will take you to dinner, cocktail parties, fancy shops or anywhere you want to go. They stretch, they bend, they adapt. What’s not to love? The only thing I need right now is another pair. Or two. So, get out your needles, Yvette. I’m on my way.