This blogger writes under the name of Quilly in a warm, humorous style about her childhood. Below is a sample from her "Hemmed In" post to whet your appetite. With an interesting title "The Grownups Wanted Us Dead," this blog is linked in my sidebar or click on the title of this post.
"Rumble never should have left me to walk home. Walking stimulates blood flow, and blood flow stimulates brain activity. Even though Gram sent Rumble back to get me, by the time he showed up, I’d walked over half the way home, and my revenge was pretty well plotted.
The next morning I told Rumble to go ahead and go to school without me, because my friends Sue and Anna were coming by. If Rumble left with the impression they would be taking me to school, that wasn’t my fault. We raided Gram’s sewing kit, grabbed a packet of needles and a couple of rolls of white thread, then we descended the basement stairs and invaded Rumble’s lair.
Rumble was — probably still is – ridiculously fastidious about his things. Most everything he owned had it’s very own hanger, even his bath towels. I took the towels out of his closet and very carefully sewed the inside layer tightly to the hanger. I also sewed the shoulders of his bathrobe to the hanger. Anna sewed all of Rumble’s socks together in pairs. Sue sewed the fly closed on every pair of underwear he owned. I sewed his top sheet to his bottom sheet on his bed.
All three of us sewed closed every single button hole on every single article of clothing he owned. On his shirts, we sewed them closed unbuttoned. On the flies of his mechanic’s coveralls and his denim overalls, we sewed them closed buttoned.
That little chore took most of the day. About an hour after we started Gram came down to see what we were doing. She shook her head. “He really isn’t going to like this you know,” she warned, then left the room. As she was ascending the stairs she said, “Don’t forget to sew his pockets closed.” It seemed like good advice, so we took it."