Technicolor Feline Pajamas (Of Doom)

What, you don't believe the entry title? Silly you. I can't imagine why, what with my propensity for choosing arcane and random titles for my entries over the past three years. Nevertheless, let me reassure you; indeed, I speak truth, for tonight I created the technicolor feline pajamas of doom.

Well, okay, actually they're just technicolor feline flannel pajamas. Adam added the "(of doom)."

Perhaps I should backtrack a bit and explain how we got there from here. Since brevity is rarely the soul of domesticat, let's see if we can't shake things up and get from there to here in fewer than ten ostensibly-connected steps:

1. Four years ago: fall in love and purchase red silk pajama bottoms.
2. Wear pajama bottoms practically to death, carting them around to various parts of the country on vacations. (Little-known fact: pajamas like being taken on vacation.)
3. Recognize that while luxurious, the pajamas are made of thinnish silk, and that one badly-placed heel would probably cause the pajamas to -
4. Oh, crap.
5. Attempt to mend pajamas. Fail. Tuck them away for a year.
6. Find pajamas. Have them mended. Rejoice. Practically live in them for two weeks.
7. See #4.
8.  Mourn.
9. Mumble, "I can replicate this." Grab scissors. Begin autopsy.

Once I had accepted the fact that the lovely silk pajamas were to be no more, I found myself looking at the style (baggy, simple) and saying, "I can't sew worth a crap, but these can be replicated."

I really hadn't planned on replicating them today. Honest! Today was just the day for me to do laundry, and then to make a run to Hancock Fabrics. Once every other month, Hancock's brings in a knife/scissors sharpener; a godsend to people like me, who keep high-quality knives but know better than to attempt to sharpen them at home.

I handed over the five knives and asked how long the sharpening would take. "I've got a few people ahead of you," he said. "Give me a half hour."

I ran to Sam's, priced some items for the house, and wandered back to Hancock's. He wasn't done, and I got bored. I thought of pajamas, and idly wandered past the brocades in search of cotton and flannel. I thought, "As usual, I'll know it when I see it."

I saw it. Immediately, I knew it had to be mine. It had green cats. Purple cats. Pink cats. Orange and yellow cats. Blue cats, even. I grabbed it and marched to the cutting table and promptly had two yards cut off for me.

I took it home, made the necessary cuts, and started sewing. One seam for each leg, a seam to join the legs together, a quick hem to the cuffs and a fold-over for the drawstring or elastic…and suddenly I had a pair of technicolor feline pajamas…of doom.

I'll eventually make calmer, more demure pairs of pajamas.

Maybe next week.

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