When my daughter, Granota, was nearly 2 years old, I made curtains for her room in a cute polka dot cotton lined with blackout fabric. But, there was one fatal flaw. To my eyes, they looked like curtains, but to a little girl, they looked like a jungle gym. We caught her one day in a leap from her bed into a full-on Tarzan swing, polka dot curtains clutched firmly in her chubby little hands. A few strands of thread were no match for our little swinging monkey, and the curtain ripped away from several of the rings. Too disgusted to take them down, I told myself, “She’ll just do it again anyways” and used that excuse to justify leaving the curtains in this sad state for a year and a half.
Finally, after being woken up at 6:30 too many times, I decided that today was the day to repair the curtains. I have a basket full of different items that need a repair of some sort or another, and usually, they take me less than twenty minutes to do. But it’s not exciting, it’s not glamorous, and I have lots of other ways I’d rather spend those twenty minutes. Really, I should just sit down and fix things as they get ripped or lose a button instead of throwing them into Sewing Purgatory. Maybe someday I’ll have enough willpower to do that.
Hand-sewing is not particularly enjoyable for me. It is one of those necessary evils as far as I’m concerned. I will probably never make a couture gown (I won’t rule it out completely, but just don’t be astonished that you don’t hear my name mentioned alongside Chanel or Givenchy). I’m hoping someday to get good at embroidery; being such an ancient and delicate craft is appealing to me. Right now, I’m putting it off until I find something worthy of embroidering. I have some ideas and, who knows, I might even get around to them before the end of the year.
When I took the curtains down, I saw that the thread had held strong around the rings, but the fabric had ripped out, which meant I had to darn it first before I could reattach the rings. Yay, more hand sewing. I missed lunch for this, but I had to get it done before Granota’s nap. “Nap” being mostly a figment of my imagination and wishful thinking.
Well, I didn’t finish before naptime and Granota squealed with delight when she saw the wide-open view she had through her window, minus one curtain. What is this fantastic vista that she was so excited about? The roof of our neighbor’s duplex. But hey, it was unobstructed. She may grow up to write real estate ads.
The curtains are back up now and Granota promises that she knows better than to pretend they are jungle vines (She also wanted everyone to take special note of her kitty cat calendar. Which is turned to January). So there’s one thing off my to-fix list and my sense of accomplishment shot right up there to… ambivalent.