Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Meditative Sewing and Mysterious Wall Handles

                 We're waiting patiently for the counts to come in over here, so I'm soothing my brain with repetitive easy sewing.  Straight lines, consistent seam allowances, and unchallenging shapes make for meditative sewing.  This need is often filled for me by quilt piecing, especially the basic rail fence design achieved with a jelly roll (2 1/2" strips of a collection that coordinates--almost all the design work is done for you!).  This week, I've been making cravats to open up the box of work I created for myself last year.  Just miles of straight lines to sew.  It is distracting me from the uncomfortable feeling that my values are not as aligned with those of my countrymen as I have always thought.  I don't know what to do with that knowledge.

 


               On a lighter note, I bring you another installment in the sort-of series, "Why Do You Have That in Your Sewing Room?"  I have a handle intended for an outdoor shed or a garage cabinet on my wall.  If we ever move, someone is going to assume that the resident of my sewing room had trouble getting out of bed or something.  The truth of the matter is that I use it to store my sleeve board when I'm not using it.  For years, I have slipped it into the handles of drawers when I didn't need it, simply because it took up so much room on a table.  I do make sure to let it dry completely before I slide it against the wall, to prevent mildew.  Most of the places I've worked have just stored it on a small shelf below or near the ironing board, but that kind of space is at a premium in my little room.  Plus, my entire ironing center is collapsed down and hung on the wall when it's not in use, so a little hammock or basket under the board would not work.  Alas.  I think I like the handle best for the situation I'm in.  Most of my pressing happens on a small counter top board that I set up on the cutting table, then hang on the wall when I'm finished.


 

               Sleeve boards are a highly useful tool in sewing.  Their obvious service is as a small board for pressing the seams of sleeves neatly, but they are good for pressing the seams of smaller garments, like baby and doll clothes.  If you stand the board on end, you can also use the curved end to press the top of armscyes, and it's a good, stable spot to steam shrink wool sleeve caps for classic tailoring.  I also use the narrow end for pressing my seams open on cravats--leave an eight-inch opening near the middle, and that gives you room for negotiation on both ends.  When I was helping my grandmother clean out the garage decades ago, we came upon a tiny sleeve board Grandpa had made for her to make doll clothes easier.  None of us could justify keeping it, so it went forward into the world.  I think about it from time to time, though, when I have to use a dowel or a point press to do the job.  Thank goodness Kiddo never got far enough into Barbies to require me to make clothes for them.  I'm perfectly content figuring out clothes for the eighteen inch dolls she loves.

                Fuzzy has been patiently enabling all my harebrained schemes to make my sewing room work well, and I think he's been a bit shocked to discover just how many tools there really are in high-level sewing, and just how ingenious some of them are.  Sometimes, I think he comes to the door just to see if he can catch me in action with some of them, like the needle board for pressing velvet or the ruffler attachment (it looks like a torture device, and it makes petticoats and such a million times easier).  Remember that scene in Steel Magnolias, when Truvy's husband is sitting in the salon, asking what stuff is for, and she just says, "That makes you pretty," and he just stares at it some more?  I think Fuzzy has a similar reaction to some of this stuff.  He helps me store it anyway.  Thank goodness for him. 

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