My girls are modern, hip and woefully unable to handle most jobs my mother and grandmother took for granted. Case in point: sewing, whether by hand or machine.
Back in the 70’s I’d see something I liked in a store window window and go home and make it, either for myself or my little sister. I took a turn at designing and still love the principle of my favorite custom job, a navy polka-dot suit with pale blue piping at the collar and cuffs. My mother sewed professionally and when I made anything it was well constructed. When I sewed for myself I ALWAYS preferred the outcome to what I could find in the stores. I could both select the design and the fabric, meaning I wasn’t stuck with somebody else’s idea of what worked well.
Sadly, I haven’t unpacked my sewing machine or serger since roughly 2002. The sewing machine needs minor repairs and both machines need to be cleaned, oiled and adjusted, particularly in light of how long they’ve been sitting in storage. It will cost maybe $100 apiece to do that, and every few weeks I find myself wanting to get the sewing machine going.
Part of the problem is space (or more accurately a lack thereof.) Part of it is time. Part of it is just knowing G would positively flip out over the resultant and unavoidable mess. And part of it is sheer weariness. After working my ass off all week, I really, REALLY don’t want to plunk down for a few hours in front of a sewing machine. Throw in the intermittent back issues and it just ain’t happening right now.
I do, however, keep a hand sewing kit at the ready and it gets used every now and again. I just finished fixing a pair of G’s trousers that had split at the seam. The pants aren’t tight on him, but it’s a simple fact that when you buy used clothing (or even new clothing,) sooner or later you’ll have to choose between repairing or trashing. If things are otherwise in good condition, or if it’s just something that needs hemming, I opt for repairing every time.
Of course the sewing is accompanied by a due amount of procrastination. It took me two weeks to get around to hemming G’s pants – which, as it turned out, I didn’t need to hem at all. I cracked up, too. When he put them on for me to measure the hem, those suckers WERE tight on him. G isn’t a chunky hunk, and these are his normal size, so either they were altered already (which seems likely considering both length and breadth were off) or the size was off from the start.
Fortunately one thing G hasn’t experienced is my sewing something for him from scratch. The kids’ dad did, and after that he insisted I make his clothing – ALL of his clothing – in addition to working constantly to support the kids and his sorry, lazy fat ass. I got sucked into that one; I’m a lot more leery about G, especially since it’s a huge deal just for me to hem a pair of pants for him, or sew a button on. He’s this weird mix of modern European and neo-neanderthal throwback. I know better than to spoil him to that degree, unless and until I have the luxury of being a stay-at-home housewife.
Changes at work this week have my head spinning. Last (Wednesday? Thursday?) we got the word that we were getting new team members on our team and that therefore three volunteers were being asked to transfer out. While my team and my manager were beyond awesome, the camaraderie amazing for a big company, I was one of the volunteers to split from the group. The reason was simple enough. I got a Monday through Friday shift! It starts at 5am so I’m off work at 1:30, which is (to me) even more awesome. In this heat that makes for an easier drive, plus I get off early enough that I can still schedule doctors’ appointments, etc., after work.
Yesterday I got even more good news: I got a raise, and a respectable one to boot. It should hit right my paycheck around the time we are plunking down money on the new place (I hope.)
The hypnosis session got set aside for the moment. I could’ve covered the bill without sacrificing our food budget, but when we know there’s a move right around the proverbial corner I just couldn’t justify shelling out a few hundred bucks. If it works it’s worth it for the wear-and-tear on my body alone. Unfortunately the timing just wasn’t right.
The only blah thing about this week is that while I’ve tried to reach two separate rental agents, neither of them has responded, either by email or phone. I wanted to set an appointment rather than just hauling unannounced ass into their office this weekend, but noooo… ‘S all right. I wanted to go this route but it’s by no means mandatory. There are too many nice places out there, stuff with vastly more space and better locations, that cost less than where we now live. We’re doing our homework now and we’re close enough that when the right place opens up, I’ll slap down whatever I need to reserve it for us. (Late edit: I finally got a response from a rental agent – third one I called, the only female, naturally – and we have an appointment day after tomorrow. It’s SO. WORTH. going through an agent. And it figures the only one who actually does her job is a woman.)
One other awesome factoid: I finally submitted the disputes on my credit report and lo and behold, the fourth negative credit item is now on its way OFF my report, without my spending a penny. I thought it might be my bill. Turns out it never was. It’s supposedly a land-line phone bill opened January of this year. I haven’t had a land line since I think ’05! They also had me down at some addresses where I’ve never lived, and so on. I still need to open a secured card, but getting this cleared up should make that easier, too.