The life of a farm wife is glamorous. Especially when the perfectly comfortable and broken in bibs get rips. And my husband wants them fixed, like now.
At least they are clean.
But I'm not sure the Brother is quite up to the task.
I hate to even mention the words "new machine" right now (spoiler alert - I got a new one for Christmas), but when it comes time to replace her, I think I need something with bigger throat space.
There was much tugging and pulling, but I managed to get all the holes patched. This isn't the first time either (old in gold stitching and new in gray).
Methinks next time we get a new pair.
At least they are clean.
I grew up on a farm in Indiana so this sounds really familiar.
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