But after that, pouting began to bore me and I hit upon a mission: I was gonna make a goddamn sock monkey.
Why the flip did this occur to me? Well, I'd talked it up for many years, seeing as how my grandmother gave me one when I was six or seven and it was subsequently so cherished and frequently hugged that the tail developed a hole at the end. As it turns out, my friends listen to me on occasion, so I was gifted with this kit at Christmastime this year. Though my original hosiery simian was far more tricked out than this one, with a red gingham dress and hat that had lace trim, this nostalgia-fueled, red felt vested ape would do nicely on a blustery, pissy winter's night. Besides, the original mon-chi-chi was lost.
Generally speaking, I'm not a seamstress, so the seams on this monkey are probably a little to a lot sloppy and poorly crafted. Yet on I sewed, into the night.
Toiling well past midnight, I fell into bed from exhaustion. The next morning I awoke, and within an hour or so, had the monkey finished.
It was a distinctly more Mennonite brand of fun than I'd had planned originally, but fun nonetheless.
And I most certainly have more to show for it.
"Whoa, amber is the color of your energy, whoa." -- 311