An ode to an Old Pfaff

I remember growing up my grandmother used to sew all kinds of garments for us. Me, my two sisters and our nise and cousins came over for a fitting session (and to eat cookies) ever so often. The prints where over the top, the puffed sleeves even more so, and there was more than a few stray needles to get stung by. I don’t know if I appreciated it as much as I should when my grandmothers was still alive, but today these are heartwarming childhood.