Needle rage
If you have read my sisters’ comments on yesterday’s post, you will realize that sewing can release some very passionate feelings. So, passionate indeed, that a friend of my sister actually bit her on the back during sewing class! (Yet another reason I am thankful for being thrown out of needlework…) Yes, folks, Mother of the Cousins was bitten by her best friend, Veryan, and the bite was so hard that her back was bruised, even through her clothes.
Now, my other sister claims that I took revenge and bit Veryan back.
I am appalled by the suggestion – surely not? After all, we were about 10-12 years old, and way past the biting stage. At least – I think I was. I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of biting back physically.
I do remember biting back metaphorically though. When Mother of the Cousins told me what had happened during sewing class and then showed me the evidence, I was furious. Raging. If there was any biting or general bossing around of my siblings to be done, then that was my job – and no one else’s!
I definitely remember hunting Veryan down (I found her in the gym hall), and then attacking her with my only weapon: words. Sarcasm rained down on her back like hot needles. My angry words reduced her to tears as I defended my sister in the only way I could. I’m sure this was far worse a fate than being bitten.
Who knew that under the surface of a seemingly demure needlework class such passions could be unleashed?
Mmm… maybe I will take up sewing after all.
Ok..but let me know when you start…so I can keep out of your way!!
If you feel in a “biting mood” I think my boss would appreciate your help…*S*
November 3, 2008 at 16:51
Who knew that sewing could be such a blood sport!
November 3, 2008 at 23:10
Mmmm, I pretty much remember a convoy of the three Millers, (the terror of the school for many years, school teachers being hugely relieved when I was the only one left), and a punitive nip being administered to offending girl!
Don’t shatter all my childood memories, next you’ll be telling me you never locked the Latin teacher in her book cupboard, a feat I strived to emulate but never could as she didn’t trust me!! All your legacy, ladyFi!!
November 4, 2008 at 04:50
Oh.. but I DID lock the Latin teacher in the book cupboard… I did!
November 4, 2008 at 08:13
Words are much more vicious than any mere bite – the wit is mightier than the sword!
Good for you!
November 4, 2008 at 08:50
I dunno. A good slap never fails to work either…
November 4, 2008 at 08:56
“… maybe I will take up sewing after all” Not with my sewing machine, you wont!
November 4, 2008 at 15:50
Have you considered writing your memoirs? Fiji, Australia, China, Barcelona, all places where you have left your mark in life! You could serialise it on your blog!! Would make wonderful reading.
November 6, 2008 at 03:22
ah, will people read this comment?
Yes, my dear big sis took revenge, but I took my own sweet revenge when I least expected it.
You see, we were in our RE class and Veryan had to stand up and speak.
She was in front of me. Lying on my desk was my compass – not the thing with magnetic north, but the sharp pointy thing where you place your pencil next to and do big circles …
Oh yes, I remember, I jabbed it straight into her bum. And she screamed. And then had to play it down.
I didn’t get into trouble for that.
But it is living memory in my household, known by my husband and children!
November 6, 2008 at 15:10
Pingback: A prod in the backside « On a quirky quest