Back in the saddle

The sewing saddle! No, I’m not sewing saddles. Nor anything else Western-themed. Just sewing. Well, actually, I haven’t even taken the cover off my sewing machine yet. But I did iron fabric, lay it out, and cut three pattern pieces out of it so far. Then I had to go pick up my daughters from VBS and get lunch for the kids and well… now it’s naptime and the sewing machine is just too noisy during naptime. Not like they sleep anyways, but I like to maintain the illusion of providing a quiet, peaceful environment for them to sleep, if they’re so inclined. Which they aren’t. But I always hope. And now it sounds like one of them is out. Pardon me while I go return small children to their beds.

Alright, where was I? Ah, yes. Sewing. Or the illusion of sewing. There are a lot of illusions around here. It’s like a carnival fun house. Or a magician’s show. Speaking of magicians, Rana is in the bathroom soaking play-doh in water for “a magic trick.” The magic trick also involved cutting a sponge into small pieces and getting those wet, too. I’m tired and she’s being quiet, so… she gets to play magician. I’ll probably regret it later when the sink is clogged with play-doh.

Last week I decided I should start sewing again. I cut out all the pattern pieces and laid out my fabric and then realized that because of the print on the fabric, I really needed to turn it around the other way. It sounded like a lot of work to me at the time, so I just left it. Rayon challis is hard to get to lie flat and I had just worked so hard to get it all spread out and even when I noticed the pattern. Feh. So it stayed there all week, getting progressively wrinklier as my children took turns playing merry-go-round in my chair even though I tell them everyday that they are not allowed in Maman’s sewing area. They don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to anybody. They might listen to Duff McKagan because they think he’s awesome, but probably only the first time. After that, he wouldn’t carry any more weight than the rest of us around here.

Someday, this will be a blouse.

As the week went on and I avoided my fabric, the thought dawned on me that my brother is getting married in a few weeks and I have nothing to wear to the ball. I mean, the wedding. Well it’s a darn good thing I know how to sew, isn’t it? I looked through my fabric waiting to become dresses and found a lot of wool. Hm. Even though summer shows up only sporadically here in Washington, I’m not sure I’m down with a wool dress at the end of August. Next option — cottons. One is white with large navy blue polka dots. It’s gonna make a killer dress, but, eh, a little too much white for a wedding. My other option is a purple/green floral. It may even be a Swiss dot. It’s not; I checked. The pattern it is destined for is cute. I’m not convinced it’s really wedding-y enough, though. But I have this underlying guilt that says I shouldn’t buy any more new fabric until I use up at least some of what I already have.

Someday sooner, this will be a dress.

Purple floral it is. I got it ironed, which is no easy task when you’re trying to simultaneously eliminate wrinkles on one end and wad up the other end to keep it from dragging through wood shavings, dirt, and mouse poop on the floor. I managed to get it folded in half again and spread out on my sewing table and even achieved the cutting of three pieces from it! But I already told you that. Now I’m sitting here with a weird nerve pain in my right arm, listening to water running and pouring in the bathroom, and feeling so drowsy that I could just go       to        sleep     righ

What? What was that? Ohhh, right. Drowsy. Why don’t my children sleep? They’re trying to kill me by sleep deprivation. Panama! Panama-ah-ah-ah! There’s none of that, thank goodness. Besides, if they’re going to blare music, it’s usually “Welcome to the Jungle” or “Magic” (by the Cars); it just depends on the night. It’s the waking up at 6:30 every morning that’s killing me. And the waking up in the middle of the night. And the not going to sleep until 9:00. And then they won’t take their naps. Sewing on low sleep is not normally advised. We’ll see what I manage to turn out in the next week or so.

For now, I’d better see what kind of magic they’re cooking up in the bathroom. Yes, “they.” Once Granota discovered that Rana was up, naptime met its demise and instead turned into a little watery pow-wow. Good times.

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