I'm resuming work on my blue grubbies, because I spilled lemonade on the brown pair on Saturday and have been having to wear them anyway.
I found elastic in the casing, which I had foolishly cut before inserting, and I just cut eight and a half inches off it, leaving thirty-two. Now to cut another, re-insert the elastic, divide the casing with a round of stitching, insert the other, and mend the gap.
I forgot to strike that off the list when I did it, then yesterday a new card came in the mail and I had to scan my deck again. I wonder whether HTML has a tag for double strike.
There are only seven cards in the deck after I remove all the frequent-shopper cards, business cards, and appointment cards. Plus misc. items such as a sewing kit.
Started to insert the elastic, thought about pinning it out of the way of the stitching, then realized that it would be convenient to have the stitching line measured and marked, which would be a lot easier before I runkled the casing with elastic. So I dropped the bodkin on the floor (not deliberately; it fell out) and used my shaku stick to mark a line halfway between the edges of the muslin. That makes the top casing a trifle narrower than the bottom casing, because the ruffle-stitching is a tad farther from its fold than the stitching on the other fold.
While I had the casing flat, I measured it: two feet, which makes the waist of the pants four feet around. They don't flare out for the hips one bit! The legs taper a bit.
It wasn't quite time to lie down when I finished writing the above, and inserting elastic is something one can do when not quite compos mentis.
But finding a thirty-two-inch piece of elastic with a bright shiny bodkin attached is something that I can't do when fully napped and fed and exercised. I did pick it up off the floor and put it on the ironing board, I did, I did, I did!
I can cut another elastic, but all my other bodkins are much less suitable for the job, so I'm going to sew on the pockets that have been pinned to my FiberNet shirt for days, and call it a day.
The tulip-print jersey is back in the closet. I still can't work on the pants, so I made pockets for my Arachne shirt. The end of the scrap was just twice the width needed for a pocket, so I cut off a rectangle, basted a turn-under across one end — leaving a loop of thread in the middle — drew a cutting line, moved the loop to the cutting line, and cut it into two pockets.
Folded the hems to the right side, stitched the ends, turned them right-side out, pressed the hems and the turn-unders down the sides, stitched the hems, pressed the turn-unders all around using my pocket template for the corners. I pulled on the corners while pressing around the template, and they came out fairly well.
Then I basted around the turn-unders — found a #10 needle with just the right amount of thread in it on the curtain — and pressed again while pulling on corners, trimmed out the excess fabric, pressed again, trimmed off irregularities exposed by the pressing.
Then I decided to take a break before attaching them to the shirt.
The pocket template is getting warped; I should cut a new one from heavier paper, but I'll wait until I want to use it again, so I can cut it to fit the project.
Pockets pinned, but I think it better not to stitch so soon before nap time. This time I said to myself, why is it just now that I think of drawing guidelines on the shirt instead of fiddling and faddling with measurements?
Perhaps because this shirt is white, the first one is red, and the second is a blue slightly darker than my wash-out marker.
The plan for today is to get rid of the pile of clutter in the southwest corner of the sewing room, at least to the point of regaining access to my leg board — the missing board turned up at the bottom of the pile.
My first step is to remove the boxes of fiction manuscripts and pile them in the northeast corner of the sewing room. Then I can remove other documents, and what remains should be mostly sewing stuff. I've already picked up a lot of items that appear to have fallen out of the twill-tape box. I'm pretty sure they fell out because the box was dropped, so I'll have to re-order it at some point. All the stuff used to fit inside.
But first I think I'll sew on the pockets that have been pinned to my Arachne shirt for days. I have to try it on first, but I'm reasonably sure that they are in the right place.
smock-pocket three T-shirts
Firm up hooks on gray shorts
I had to strike that off before I got dressed, because my grubby pants can't go any longer without washing and I still can't find that bodkin.
Just four stitches to replace a bar tack that had come undone on one side — and I couldn't get airy one of them to go in right. And every time I picked out a stitch, I had to re-thread the needle. Meanwhile I was continually interrupted by the wash and the washer was malfunctioning, which didn't improve my mood. I finally got four stitches in — and discovered that I'd turned the hook ninety degrees from the way it should point. I'd noticed that the surviving bar tack was twisted, but hadn't been in a mood to realize why.
And now my knees are cold. But the brown pants are in a high wind and were nearly dry by the time I hung up the rest of the load.
How is it even possible to mislay a bodkin with twenty-three inches of elastic attached?
While picking up this morning, I put the blue pants on a hanger, pinned the other piece of elastic to them, and hung them on the to-do hook, which has become somewhat of a back-burner hook. Rearranged the hook so things hang neatly, and took off an old shirt — not really worth mending, so I put it with the slopping-around shirts in my closet, to be worn until it tears.
Except for one that form-fits at the end of the shelves, all the boxes in the southwest corner have been moved to the northwest corner, with the fiction manuscripts separated from the other papers. This leaves a small but very untidy pile of individual publications, pieces of paper, one circular knitting needle, and a brick. And, down at the bottom, a leg board.
A while back I moved my pieces of plywood (and one piece of insulation board) from behind the foot locker to the short wall the to-do hook is mounted on. (The short wall is the difference between the depth of the closet and the width of the hallway.) This has made them much tidier and easier to get at.
Making a do-rag from the scraps of my new jersey is definitely on the to-do list. Oddly, all the visible wear on the old one is on the dangling tab — I must be in the habit of straightening the do-rag by tugging on it. The narrow hems are fuzzy, and holes have developed at two of the corners of the name label. I should put the name label on the band of the new one, and sew it on by hand.
O, err. I have no yellow thread. Well, it will be winter before I cut the yellow linen, so I have plenty of time to buy some. Best to buy it after I cut into the linen, so I can take a scrap with me.
Searching my waiting-room sewing, I found a glove that I'd almost finished darning, so I tied it off and put it into the bike cupboard. Couldn't find any gloves on the to-do list except for a note that I should dye the darn on the other pair black. Deleted the note. Dyeing would be troublesome and messy and wouldn't improve the gloves.
Stopped by Lowery's on the way home from the farmers' markets, but found only bodkins I already have and haven't mislaid.
Pity I'm no longer capable of driving to Nappanee. I'm pretty sure I'm up to riding to Bremen and back, with a side trip to the store where I got the clamp-style bodkin.
I need to move "shorten jersey sleeves" to the front burner. Also need to compare the too-long sleeves on the taxicab jersey to the too-short sleeves on the curry jersey to get a fix on the sleeves of the proposed yellow jersey.
And I really, really need to go through my bag of waiting-room work and organize at least one small no-brainer.
I've set a goal of wearing my cotton-lined linen gown to church next Sunday. To that end, I draped it over the ironing board, then ripped back the other seam — one had already been ripped back enough to turn up a hem. Don't know how to handle the transition between underlining and loose lining. I think I'll hem the linen first, then fudge the gauze.
I notice that in an entry written a few days ago I confidently expected to buy yellow thread at Lowery's when I get around to the yellow jersey next winter. The owner of the Great Wall, our favorite restaurant, suddenly retired, then a few days later the owner of Ace Hardware did the same. At least the Great Wall was sold to another restaurant; Ace is selling the fixtures. Next time I'm in Lowery's, I'm going to be nervously checking the health and age of everyone I see!
Checking the scrap I cut off the dress. The hem was two inches wide, but the cut is three inches from the hem-fold, so I must have intended a one-inch hem.
Tried it on; the raw edge appears to be an adequate distance from the floor. But I have no staircases to practice on, and stepping up on a stool doesn't at all have the same effect.
In the morning, I ironed a dress and a shirt that I had washed yesterday, then pressed the ripped seams, pressed a turn-under on the edge of linen that had been inside the underlining before I ripped out the flat fell, pressed the turn-under of the hem, and hand-sewed the seam back in.
By the end, I could take two stitches at a time while running stitching, but had to peek at the back to make sure all layers had been caught every stitch.
Then I pinned the hem — in the process sorting and organizing my business cards. I put the unmarked cards and the cards that I'm keeping for the information on them into one of my spool bags — which isn't quite long enough when a thick wad of business cards is in it, but I don't think it will spill. The snack bag I'd gotten them out of now contains four tape-core cards, two marked business cards, a card-size sewing kit (?), and two plastic gadgets. One is a measuring gadget and the other is a corner turner with a bit of ruler marked on it.
There was time to sew the hem before naptime, but I feared "one more seam" syndrome, and did it in the afternoon.
Then after supper, I didn't feel like hemming the lining, and the delay was fortunate, because I have realized that first I need to iron the entire dress, put it on a hanger, pin the lining to the hem all around, and then trim it even.
While writing the above, I noticed my taxicab jersey on the to-do hook and thought that I should have shortened the sleeves today instead, because I want to wear it tomorrow. So I interrupted the writing to check out my curry jersey. The elastic casing on the right rear pocket is nearly worn through, but should last through tomorrow. There was also a slit in the fabric above that pocket, so I hastily put in a loose darn to keep it from getting bigger. I used the two-ply thread from my basting cone to be sure of not tearing the delicate fabric. When I went back to the cone to refill the needle, I saw a thread draped over the cone and took it instead of cutting a new one. Not until after cutting off did I see that this thread is yellow — a piece of the old "Subsilk" basting thread, and a surprisingly good match for the curry linen.
I didn't notice until I had to cut off instead of breaking the thread with my thumbnail.
Ironed the dress, which wasn't easy. Why do all cool fabrics have to be ironed?
Then I let it cool for a while and pinned the hem to the underlining. While doing that, I realized that it would be easier to mark exactly at the hem, then mark the cutting line after taking out the pins. I used my old piece of wallboard to make the ironing board hard enough to mark on, then found it perfect for marking the cutting line: I could pin the fabric to the board to keep it straight. My shaku stick was just the right width to mark the cutting line.
And it's good that I didn't attempt to measure with the dress pinned to the lining. The hem-edge mark had major wobbles in more than one place. I cut on the cutting line and hung the dress up. The lining hangs out uniformly.
I intend next to hand-hem the slits at the bottom of the lining, then I'll press the turn-under, pin the hem, and sew it with the treadle machine.
And then press the body of the dress again. It's already rumpled. I've been planning to take the scraps down and see whether there are enough to make a shirt, but I'm not sure I want a shirt of this fabric!
But it would be pretty.
I'm undecided whether to finish my grubby pants or shorten my jersey sleeves next.
The hand work is done. The transition from underlining to free lining was easier than I expected: After hemming the sides of each slit, I just pinned the lining the way it should lie, then back-stitched a U curve from one flat-fell stitching to the other. All raw edges are neatly enclosed.
Now it's pinned and ready to stitch. Looks good on the hanger.
The curve of the hem was more apparent in the gauze lining than in the linen. And it really, really needs to be pressed before I wear it!
Time to take another look at the scraps with an eye to adding pockets, or making a matching purse.
Now that I no longer walk to church, it doesn't have to be a shoulder bag. And with the "wheelchair" basket to leave things in, it could be quite small.
No, it's tightening the waist of the knickers I'll wear under my linen dress the day after tomorrow.
cut four inches off cotton-lined linen
Hey, the treadle machine is a free-arm! From the viewpoint of a long dress. The stand of the Necchi also has a shelf on the left, but it's well below the level of the bed, it's shorter than its width, and the corners aren't rounded. It does do to support things that are on the machine's free arm.
Also used the adjustability of the headlamp on the White. The first push was too bright and glaring. I usually sew by sunshine, but a storm was passing over and I had both of the room lights on.
Still need to press the gown, but I plan to do that Saturday, just before I wear it. Then I'll arrive at church with it all rumpled from being hitched up on the flatfoot.
Hmm . . . time to type up an account of my exercise habits in case the physical therapist asks.
Rain, so I'm sewing instead of riding this morning. I opened by working a stop-growth darn on a real-linen napkin I want to wash. The edges of the hole are sharp, as if cut, and I fear that I may have silverfish.
This is the better of two light-green luncheon napkins that I use to clean my glasses — unlike "cottonized" linen, real linen doesn't leave lint.
I chose a #10 milliner's needle and the two-ply cotton thread that has been hanging in the window for years, so as not to stress the worn fabric. I worked rows of running stitch a tad under an eighth of an inch apart across the hole, then a second set at right angles, weaving over and under the first set. No anchor except a few extra running stitches, so the work won't draw.
Next up: putting elastic in my blue grubby pants. I'll, sigh, have to sew the bodkin to the elastics. And I don't foresee getting to Nappanee to buy another tweezer type this summer.
I should have given up and resumed work without it long ago! The missing bodkin and piece of elastic are inside the casing.
The elastics are 32" long. My waist is 39 1/2.
The waist of the pants is four feet.
Grump. It proved impossible to push the elastic up and pin it out of the way, so I ripped the stitches it and pulled it out, and I'm about to stitch the dividing line before putting the elastic in. Sure hope I can pin the elastic out of the way while I mend the gap where I put it in!
Whatever made me think that I needed to put the elastic in before dividing the casing into two casings? Perhaps it was hangover from the previous modification of a store-bought nether garment.
The bodkin was a very convenient clamp to keep the ends of the elastic together while I was straightening out the twists, and again when I had to re-thread the needle before there were enough stitches to hold.
I'll wear the pants long enough to get them dirty before I take the brown pants apart. When I put my grubbies on after we got back from the wedding today, I tried to untangle the flopping drawstring that isn't there, and later I tried to fold down the waistband that isn't there.
The dress is pressed and ready to wear tomorrow, but I'll probably need to wear jeans to church — it's going to rain.
Wore the dress, got home just barely before the rain — with the end of the waistband on the pedal pushers under the dress flapping around because the sewed-shut opening isn't set tight enough. I set a goal of taking care of that before next Sunday, and ripped out the stitches. I had been forthoughtful enough to make them long stitches, so it didn't take long.
So I'll either complete the job or go to church with safety pins.
And the dress needs pressing worse than it did before I pressed it yesterday. Should have pressed it right after coming in out of the rain, but I just now thought of it. Also, I wanted my lunch.
When I made the casing for the blue grubby pants, I stitched a toe-width from the edge, as I do when making the triple casing for my bras. This made the ruffle way too wide, and a "paper bag" waistband, as a tutorial I read on fabrics-store.com's website called it, is uncomfortable and not the teensiest bit "elegant". Good to include it, but they should have mentioned that it's for wristbands, not waistbands.
Anyhow, when I do the brown pants, I'll stitch from the inside, right on the fold of the facing. I'll still get some "paper bag" effect, because half of it is due to the elastic sliding to the bottom of the casing. I can't make the casing much narrower, but I guess I could reduce it by a millimeter or so.
Goal for today is to shorten the sleeves of my Taxicab jersey so that I can wear it tomorrow.
The taxicab jersey's sleeves are too long, the curry jersey's are too short, and my black raw-silk shirt's sleeves are just right — but not the same style and should probably be a tad longer than a wrist held by a single strand of cord elastic. I shall measure them all along the underarm seam, from the edge of the flat-felled seam armscye to the edge of the casing:
Black shirt: left 19 3/8 — right 19 3/4
curry jersey: left 17 1/2 — right 17 1/4
taxicab jersey: 21 1/2, 21 — right 21, 20 7/8 (armscye seam not lined up perfectly when the side/underarm seam was sewn)
Casings ripped out.
The cord elastics are nine inches long. Checked box, I have fresh cord elastic.
I think I want an inch and a half off. I'll use long stitches, and mend the gap by machine, in case that isn't enough.
A quarter inch is folded under. If I draw a thread an inch and a quarter from the folded edge, that will just miss the holes from the old stitching.
I must draw the threads outside, as sitting on this chair too long makes my leg hurt. The bench seems better — and I'm more likely to stand up at intervals.
Threads drawn. I seem to have cut very well, as the discrepancy where the ends met was no more than could be disguised in the width of the seam. I was less good at measuring the hem — at one point the drawn thread was more than a quarter inch from the holes left by the stitching, and at another point on the same sleeve it ran right along them.
I prefer the rolling knife for cutting along drawn threads, but I don't have a mat small enough to stick inside a sleeve, so I cut a starting slit on the corner of a mat, then took the shirt and my good shears out to the picnic table. Then I came back in for a pair of 3.5 glasses. Next step calls for a hot iron, so I think I'll press the linen dress.
Dress pressed. Still rumpled, but there's no chance I'll get to church without rumpling it again.
I need a wider sleeve board, but I don't think I'd use it often enough to give it house room. But I never use the narrow side of this sleeve board …
I was shocked to see a dramatic dip in the cut edge of one sleeve, but stretching the puckered seam straightened it right out.
Next to find some red thread and baste-mark the spot where I plan to leave a gap, then pin in a half-inch hem.
Thought I could use my blue-plastic measuring gadget, but it measures half an inch sideways and for pinning hems I need to measure endways, so I found a tape-winding board with a line half an inch from the end. This was much easier than it was before I sorted the unmarked cards into a separate snack bag.
I pulled the sleeves out through the neck so they'd be inside out for the pressing and pinning. Then before pulling them back so they'd be right-side out for stitching inside the teacup, I ran a search to verify that "sew inside the teacup" is an official sewing term, rather than an idiosyncrasy of who-ever I picked it up from. It's such an apt term that anyone who hears it is sure to pick it up — I should start a glossary of weird sewing terms such as "inside the teacup" and "hong-kong binding". "Hong Kong" isn't self-evident like "inside the teacup", but what else would you call it?
I began stitching in the middle of the gap-mark, and ended just before stitching would overlap, so as to make the gap as short as possible.
Next step: find the yarn needle I thread cord elastic with, and cut two nine-inch pieces of cord elastic. Not until the new ones are installed do the old ones go into the trash.
I need to buy more cord elastic. I threw out the used elastics in the bag — now I suppose I'll find a use for "elastic but not too elastic" — but I do have baby elastic. I think.
The sleeves could stand to be a teensy bit shorter, as could the elastics in the cuffs, but I mended the gap and hung up the shirt. Forgot to lengthen the stitch before sewing the casings, but the stitch the machine was set for wasn't terribly short. I did lengthen it a little before I mended the gap.
No <strike></strike> — shorten the sleeves isn't on my to-do list.
Wore the shirt yesterday. The sleeves are just right.
Goofed off when I wasn't working in the garden today.
Just read to-do list to select the most-urgent project, and moved "patch silk tights" to "back burner". I've got two wearable pairs.
"Make new wallet" is slowly but surely inching up the priority list. I have some black cotton-and-linen canvas, which is probably what I used last time, but I'm sure that I have a scrap of black Cordura somewhere.
I decided that I could at least iron out the annoying rumple that has kept the coin-catching lip from working — and used the narrow side of my sleeve board.
Then I Froogled for "wide sleeve board". They exist. I'll look around when I stop by Lowery's for cord elastic tomorrow.
Found the cord elastic. Oh, they also have black! Wait, I don't need black.
And I put the wrong one back. Now I have two unopened skeins of black and no skeins of white. But I don't expect to need cord elastic before next Saturday's trip downtown, and I do have scraps.
The annoying curl was back the very first time I opened the wallet, and all the worse for having had a crease pressed into it.
Just looked at it to see whether shortening the flap by widening the lip would keep the edge from getting curled. I think that pressing the rumple in might do the trick, even though that would lengthen the flap by curving the lip.
So I dampened it and set the cold iron on it.
tighten pedal pushers one notch
I tightened them by two notches, or at least one and a half.
I had the foresight to set the Necchi for four millimeters, so it will be easy to take it out if I want to change, or if I get the energy to sew two hooks and ten eyes. Suitable eye tape does exist, but I can't find out what it's called! I thought I had it made when I learned that it's used for corsets and bras, but that clue petered out.
Putting the pedal pushers on before breakfast reveals that I need to tighten them another half inch.
There were exactly enough sweat rags that I could wear one on washday, and at least two came out of the washer as skillet wipes, so this morning I tore up an old pillow case. At least two of those sweat rags will make it through the next wash.
tighten pedal pushers one notch
This time I had the wit to try them on after they were pinned and before stitching. Two notches from maximum tight. Tried them on again after stitching: one notch from maximum tight. Perhaps it was nearer lunch time?
Just before sitting down to write the above before napping, having eaten lunch, I tried them on again. Two notches from maximum tight.
Seems about right, and I think that I no longer need to worry about supporting the inner corner of the pocket, now that the inner hook is farther onto the pocket.
May also matter that now the outer hook is hooked.
Wellawell. The elastic I took out of the gray knickers is thirty-one inches long; I'm putting back thirty-two. Took a while to determine that, as I reversed the digits in one of my entries about replacing the waist on the blue grubbies. The empty casing is twenty inches wide, making it forty inches around. My hips are forty-four; this explains why the knickers are hard to pull on.
The old elastic stretches very easily. I suspect that it was once pink; I used to have a lot of very cheap pink elastic.
tighten waist elastic of gray
After supper, I ripped the waistband and a label that reads "breckenridge/XL/MADE IN INDIA" off my brown grubbies.
I can stretch the exposed waist to twenty-four and a half inches, which makes it forty-nine inches around.
The binding strips were three short scraps, a seventeen-inch piece, a twenty-six inch piece, and a 6.5" by 55 1/4" leftover. This is, by good luck, already snipped for tearing off another piece.
No snip for the remaining two, but they are two. When the time comes, I can fold it in half.
So I tore off a new binding strip, pinned it to the brown pants, and put the rest back on the shelf.
I also pinned the label I ripped off to the pants, even though I intend to throw it away.
Re-tied the knot in the elastic of the blue-flower #4 underpants. Finding the mend and picking it out wasn't difficult — then I noticed that the gap in the stitching was in the gap in the elastic. But the cord elastic was stiff enough to push along until I could catch it with the wig hook that I bought at Sally's Beauty Supply just because it's so rare to see a steel crochet hook. I judge it to be a #8.
Since I didn't want to change the thread on the Necchi for one inch, I repaired the gap by hand — with a pale blue thread in case I need to do this again. I also used only running stitches on each side of the overcasting stitches, to make them easier to pull out.
I did some sewing before breakfast. I threw two pillowcases into the washing machine and got two clean cases out of the linen closet. I store my cases inside-out, so I put my hand through one, grabbed the pillow, and turned the pillowcase right-side out. Then I picked up the other case and my hand came out the other end — it had worn away at the seam. It was longer than it needed to be, so I drew a line with a wash-out marker, stitched along it with the White, which was already set up and needed only to be unfolded, then tore off the worn fabric and cased the pillow.
I mentioned a while back that I'd sewn a drawstring into a dirty pillowcase. I remembered that while putting the wash onto drying racks. Ripping out wet stitches isn't easy, but I had used the longest stitch and the widest zig-zag. I'd also forgotten to turn the pillow case inside out.
Seems that I didn't mention that I'd decided to salvage the twill tape that opening the waistband of the Breckenridge pants released. I should have ironed it dry, but I didn't feel like heating up the iron, so I smoothed it with my fingers and draped it over the ironing board.
I had to put the morning's sweat rag back on after my nap today, and one of my sweat rags came out of the washer as skillet wipes, so I tore up another old pillow case this evening. I got four rags, and I think all of them will survive washing at least once. I carelessly tore a starter-rip into one, so it won't wash many times.
I've taken my wool jersey to two appointments without unwrapping it. Perhaps I'll get a start on sewing on the pockets when I see the dentist on Monday. But the appointment is at 10:30, so I don't see myself arriving with a lot of time to spare.
Another pillow case needs to be shortened. I think I shall tear this one first and sew it afterward.
I believe that the rate at which I tear up old pillow cases slightly exceeds the rate at which I retire cases to the rag pile. Helps that I tore a printed pillow case into skillet wipes directly.
I really should start taking from the bottom of the pile when I need sweat rags. I've half a notion to tear up some before they are needed, just to set the pattern.
I did tear up a pillow case from the bottom of the pile today. By dint of opening the hem, I got four sweat rags and two very small scraps.
From that far down, they are from when I used rather small stitches for hems, but with the aid of a single-edge razor blade, it wasn't too tedious. Speaking of which, I've got a long pillowcase to shorten. (Pause to tear a couple of badly-worn inches off the bottom of a pillow case.)
While I have the White open to sew across the bottom of the pillow case, I might attach the casing that I pinned to my brown grubbies today. The scrap of casing was only five inches long, so I measured the waist again: it's fifty inches now that I've ironed out the wrinkles.
What with this, that, and the other, I didn't sew the pillow case last night, but did get to it just before lunch today, and put it on a pillow. After lunch, I joined the ends of the casing and sewed it to the pants, then realized that the next step required heating up the iron, which I didn't want to do at nap time, so I folded the White, closed the curtains. and dragged the chair to this computer.
The brown grubbies need only to have elastic inserted, but it's close to bed time and that involves measuring and cutting.
I stitched the dividing line half an inch from the edge, which wasn't far from the edge stitching. I think the tweezer bodkin will go through, but I think I'll use the sew-on bodkin without checking. Sewing on isn't much trouble, and extracting a stuck bodkin is.
Still no time to do that last little dab of work on the brown grubbies. I need to make another sheet. Since getting the bolt off the shelf is the hard part, I plan to tear off three sheets and put two of them on top of the bolt. That should also make the bolt easier to get back onto the shelf.
Making new underpants is also urgent. I have eight pairs of white pants, four of them are worn out, and the new pants get less new every week.
I have two yards of excessively-fine hemp and cotton jersey, which should make a sufficient number, and I'm not quite out of the coarse hemp-and-cotton jersey that I like for linings. I may self-line the hemp jersey and save the coarse stuff for cotton — I have worlds more of the too-fine yellow I bought for jerseys and hated once made up, and there are other too-fine cotton jerseys — though I think all of them are printed.
Before washing, the hemp-and-cotton jersey, hereinafter called HCJ, is one yard and twenty-eight inches wide. It's two yards twelve-and-a-half inches long on one side, and two yards thirteen inches on the other. Into the washer for an overnight soak!
I've set a timer for an hour, and plan to dump in the jersey that I'm also soaking overnight — it's now in a bucket of ammonia. Hope I remember to pick it out before turning on the agitation tomorrow.
In the dentist's waiting room today, I made a bar tack in the corner of the pocket I want to sew to my worn wool jersey, then jammed the project back into the attaché case. Didn't get the cap to my glasses case into the attaché case, but one of the clerks picked it up, later saw me looking under the chair, and put two and two together.
The HCJ came out of the dryer pilled. After it had cooled, I put it back into the briefs box.
I was surprised that the edges did not curl.
Roomba day proved to be a good time to get muslin off the shelf — the floor is clear, and I had put away everything on the ironing board. Still not easy to measure three yards when my clear floor is at right angles to the bolt. I left half of the bolt on the shelf, so I can't line it up with the room.
At least, folding it in half again won't take as many iterations as unfolding it.
Exactly twelve leaves to be folded. I'm not sure what that says about the length of the remaining muslin, particularly since there seemed to be some narrow leaves down underneath. I started with thirty-three yards, tore off a bit more than two yards for a shrinking sample (which I made into pillow cases), and made a sheet of three. Today I tore off nine more yards. 33 - 14 = 19 I folded two future sheets and put them on top of the bolt, then returned the rolls of narrower muslin, burlap, and blue-plaid shirting. And, finally, the scraps of the binding strips.
I brought a card table in to measure the last sheet blank. It helped, but not a lot.
I was puzzled for a moment about how to get the folded bolt back onto the shelf, then I remembered that I'd adjusted the ironing board a tad lower than the shelf to get it off, raised the board a couple of inches, and voilà!
I changed the bed today, which meant that I had to darn the worn sheet so that it could be washed.
I used a beading needle to make long stitches in rows averaging a quarter inch apart.
About halfway through, I figured out the right way to do it: cut off a couple of yards of thread, but pull only a comfortable leash through the eye of the needle. At each pull through, pull only until the doubled thread exits the stitches, leaving most of the thread at the beginning of the row. Since one has to pull a needle-length of the tail into the stitches every time, one has a constant check on whether the thread is still flowing freely. With long stitches in rows only half a foot long, there was no resistance. Then before turning to go back, I would pull until the loop was small, but still present. A small loop at each turn guarantees that the thread will not tear the feeble cloth.
I have also discovered that the unwashed muslin is stiff enough that I don't have to use the iron to crease it, so I have been pinning one hem into it, with it still folded bolt-wise on the ironing board. When I got past the center crease, I thought about moving my chair to the other side so I could continue to stick the pins in the
AAUUGGHH! wrong direction! The way I've got them stuck, I'd have to put the entire sheet under the throat of the machine.
Ah, well, I'll finish the job with right-angle pins, then tomorrow or Sunday I'll re-stick them.
I was starting to say, that instead of moving my chair, I rotated the ironing board so that I could continue to stick pins while waiting for something to download.
I finished pinning the sheet that night, and sewed it yesterday. Now it's on the ironing board with the other end exposed.
There's a hole in the tail of my do-rag. I'm ignoring it. I do try to catch the tail above the hole when I pull on the tail to settle the crown.
Saw a fellow in a black do-rag in church, but did not get an opportunity to walk around him to see how it sits in front.
Now the quarter-inch fold has been pinched into the sheet.
I got antiseptic on blue-flower underpants #3 today, which I'm recording so that I can wear the same pair to the next appointment. I got most of it out. It turned from orange to purple when I rubbed it with soap, then more rubbing got the purple out. I've left it in a bucket with a little laundry detergent, and plan to wash clothes tomorrow.
Orange was a great relief: when I saw the stain in the ladies' room, I thought it was red. That's the second time I've been freaked out by Betadine.
The wash is put away — I have eight pillow cases in the cupboard and only six pillows on the bed. Bearing in mind that having four cases in one wash is unusual, "make more pillow cases" is way down on the priority list.
"Finish hemming the sheet", on the other hand, has a deadline of next washday, because I haven't *any* clean sheets except two of those that have been darned and put away as a thin-fabric source. (They would have been perfect for underlining the cotton-underlined linen gown.) The third is in the laundry hamper, neatly folded because I'm not going to wash it until I can hang it outside to dry.
I stuck a few pins in before sitting down here. May get more done if something is slow to download.
Or slow to filter. I used my sleeve board to get at it in the fold, and continued to use it after turning the ironing board around. I shall use the sleeve board from the beginning when I do the next sheet.
I got a tad more than a sleeve-board length beyond the fold, and will probably sew it today.
I'm not working very hard at finding a wider sleeve board. I haven't seen any sleeve board at all at Lowery's, but I haven't asked. Don't know where I'll put it when I find it.
Which reminds me that when figuring out how to put my embroidery-gig backpack away, I realized that I need to replace one of my narrow shelves with a wide shelf. I hope Ace still has a wide shelf. They did have wide brackets the last time I was there.
I have noticed that washday is also the deadline for putting elastic into my brown grubbies.
Brown grubbies still languish, but I sewed the hem in the sheet this evening — after I got back from buying four wide brackets for the shelf. Shelf needs only two, but I might want to do this again some day. Dave has a board already to make the shelf.
When I went back to pinning yesterday, I found that I could stretch the remaining hem between my hands; it wasn't a lot more than twice as long as the sleeve board, so I switched to pinning it to the ironing boar. Two false starts: first I anchored the hem right at the edge of the board, and that long, long drawstring can't be pulled tight enough to resist the pull. so I moved the end of the hem over a few inches and found that it was pulled all slaunchwise by the folds of sheet under it, so I unpinned it again and pulled the entire sheet over, and then things worked.
More sewing today: I was very late to leave the house this morning, and one reason was that I took a few minutes to sew up the leaks between the three back pockets of my jersey. The left pocket is now leakproof — at least the leak is too small to let my reading glasses escape — but an important item vanished from the right pocket and later turned up in the wallet pocket. And, thinking that I'd stopped the leak, I never looked for it there.
The leak is partly because the stitching came undone, but mostly because I sewed only the part of the fold-bottom pocket that hangs free, and an inch of the stitching above that point is missing. In addition to allowing the passage of anything that can bounce that high, the gap put force on the bar tack securing the upper end of the mending, which I deliberately made weak enough to pull out without tearing the worn fabric.
And the upper few inches of stitching are also missing.
revise red bras I no longer plan
to change the elastic in those three bras because
I've found occasions on which bras that don't
support very well are much more comfortable.
Typing in the evening, for example.
While planning to make rice bags out of the bit I cut off the hem of the linen-print dress, I found that I have a yard and fifteen inches of fabric that's a tad over fifty-eight inches wide.
Also a scrap that is forty-seven inches long and tapers from twenty-six inches to twenty-one inches wide. There is a selvage on one side, and one thread-straight end.
And a scrap with two thread-straight ends and a selvage on one side, forty-three inches long, tapering from twenty-nine inches to twenty-four inches wide. Plus six snippets too small to make pockets and eleven inches of selvage printed "IVISION OF KELLWOOD, PATTERN # 7011,1999 COPYRIGHT ENC"
While checking to see whether I had any white linen to piece it out with, I discovered that I still have three-fourths of a yard of the linen I made into the sheets that just wore out. Probably more like two thirds of a yard after it's been washed.
I cut four pieces off the old hem to make two rice bags. Cut instead of folding because the hem is curved, and making a piece longer would make it narrower.
So now it's safe to buy rice. Last time I bought rice to make rice bags I ended up throwing the rice out or something. Before buying, I should check the freezer to make sure I no longer have it.
Before that, I repaired the pocket divisions on my orange jersey. And I've about decided to cover the casing on the yellow one with black linen, possibly the cotton blend left over from my pedal pushers. The pockets collect horrible black stains from putting my hands in, and the casing has worn through and shows the elastic. Making the casing double would kill two birds with one stone. Or perhaps I should just piece it, and make it easy to remove and replace the casing when it gets worn. Or I could make the whole pocket black. That would look like the design of my first jersey. I could make a black collar too.
I've been thinking that making my butt black would impair visibility, but I don't honk as often as I used to, and my whole back will be yellow.
I found a small corrugated box in the garage, put all the plastic eggs, boxes, and pill bottles into it, and covered the addendum on the tin-boxes box's label.
Grumped around most of the day because it wasn't pleasant outside. I did change the sheet on the bed, which was overdue. Edited some hypertext for the family cookbook. Just before sitting down for the evening, I laid the pieces of the rice bags on the counter and put starch on their edges. Since linen ravels and the seam allowances are narrow, I plan to zigzag all edges before sewing them together.
Oh, I did iron the rice bag pieces and a shirt.
Washday, and I'm running around with no trousers. Only five pairs of underpants in the wash; I didn't think that last week's wash was that late.
Various interruptions, and now I'm wearing an old pair of calf-length cotton tights that I put on so I could comb my hair outside.
It's a drying day, but The darned sheet is still at the bottom of the laundry hamper, since I needed the space for a good sheet. It's on the line now, and I looked at it carefully from both sides, one side with light shining through, and see no reason it won't last for a while. Probably a good idea to get on with the second of the three sheet lengths I tore off, though.
Now, black elastic or white elastic for the brown pants? I've put on a white facing, but I've got two coils of black and only one of white.
And I've just realized what the mystery loops of white waistband elastic way too small for a waist and way too big for wrists are: I must have taken them out of a pair of sweatpants. I put them and the loop of black elastic that I took out of the grubbies into a sandwich bag that contained pieces of new waistband elastic.
Okay, thirty-two inches of elastic, not twenty-three!
And now the smaller reel of black is very small.
Well, I've never had that happen before! About three quarters of the way around, the stitches holding the bodkin to the elastic broke.
This time I'll use 100/6 instead of the already-threaded basting needle.
This morning, I found time to look at the pattern advertisement fabrics-store.com has been panting at me to see. After a few screens of breathless admiration, I finally discovered that the amazing breakthrough is that they ship the pattern in a mailing tube.
Which makes me grumpy enough to notice that they said "try and" when "try to" was clearly intended. Where is Miss Thistlebottom when you need her?
And there are two incomplete edits in the third paragraph from the bottom "dressesgarments" and "dressesclothes". I'm glad that I skimmed over the rest too quickly to see such things.
Upon reading that the pattern would be rolled after they receive the order, I reflected that one should reverse the roll each time the pattern is put away. Then I remembered that rolled papers should always be stored with the printed side out, so that they don't curl up at the edges when laid on a table. After that, I reflected that sometimes one wants to lay out a pattern with the other side up.
Um . . . threading a needle with black polyester and finishing my grubbies would be a much better use of my time than writing drivel.
shorten waist of brown grubbies
and I'm wearing them. I put the blue pair that I washed yesterday back into the closet.
Now I'm halfway through changing the thread in the Necchi so I can zig-zag the edges of my rice-bag pieces. Chose 100/6. A thinner thread would be more appropriate, but I won't have to change before sewing the construction seams.
When turning the bags right-side out, I realized that starch is what makes rice get hot, so I threw the bags into the laundry hamper. Perhaps I should put them on to soak tonight — if I can find them. I do plan to soak my white bras in detergent, and could throw the rice bags in.
As much as I love broadfall openings on pants, the aren't at all suitable for underwear. I need to make black drawers with eight patch pockets on them.
And the two representing broadfall pockets should be fold-bottom.
One sweat rag came out of the washer as skillet wipes. I have plenty of sweat rags, so I'm not going to tear up an old pillow case.
Haven't been through the freezer looking for unwanted rice.
Dave bought new curtains for his room. His old curtains reflect more light than those in the sewing room, so I've taken down one green curtain and put up one toile-print curtain. I discovered that the filing system of things pinned to the curtain was in dire need or reorganization — and the majority of the stuff is on the curtain I haven't taken down yet. I hope Dave knows where I left the ladder!
The curtain is still half changed, but I sprayed the HCJ with starch and let it dry on the card tables, then sorta folded it, tossed it on the pile on the ironing board, and put the card tables away. After I dry-iron the HCJ, I'll put the tables back up and cut out six pairs of underpants.
I also cut two worn-out wash rags into four washable wet-wipes. I didn't notice that the zig-zag wasn't engaged until I was a quarter of the way across the first washrag, so I straight-stitched all four edges, then shortened the stitch and engaged the zig-zag. I ran the toe on, rather than beside, the blue line, but there was a quarter of an inch between the lines of stitching. I reflected that the first two stitchings had stiffened the edge enough that I could probably zig-zag over the cut edge, but I didn't do it.
The curtains are both up, but I still have to sort the stuff that was pinned to the old ones, and I haven't touched the underpants project.
The fabric under the right rear pocket in my taxicab jersey has worn through. But Weather Underground says that I can wear my cotton jersey next Saturday, and I believe the curry jersey can hang together for one more outing.
I did sew some yesterday. While cleaning up my notebook for today's trip, I remembered that there's a slip of paper I can't throw out until "strap wallet" is stricken off it in green. (A green pencil happened to be the first I found when I decided to strike entries off my notes with a colored pencil.)
Green means "transcribed", so I could have added it to the list of things to sew, but the wallet happened to be bugging me at the moment, so I gathered up the wallet, the black upholstery thread, a needle, a thimble, a pair of scissors, a large brass snap, and a piece of slightly-used mystery-fiber tape, and went to the rocking chair.
I found the cat asleep in it, so I went to the patio chairs on our front porch, and sat in the one next to our surviving three-sided table.
I'm grateful to Al for chasing me outside.
I started to fold the pocket in half to mark the place to sew the snap, and found that the stitches dividing it from the other pocket had ripped back, so I replaced those, using both 3.5 magnifying glasses and bright sky to see the marks left by the old stitches. This brought to my attention that the other side of the pocket was pulling out of the seam, but upholstery thread was obviously unsuitable, so I left it until I'd sewed on the socket, sewed the male half to a double fold of the mystery tape, cut the strap to length, and sewed it on.
Restitching the seam didn't seem to be an option, so I whipstitched the folds together. There was quite a lot of fine thread left in the needle, so I baseball stitched the place where a mirror slightly larger than the pocket had torn it.
It's harder to get the cards and stuff into the pocket now, but they don't spill out all over when I want to get coins out of the wallet. Not that I got coins out today; I didn't spend any cash.
Wellawell. I decided to dust mop instead of running Roomba in here today, and that required me to pick up the embroidery-gig backpack which has been lying on the floor because its shelf requires about two man-days of organizing, and there was a white cloth in among the papers that had fallen off it. The long-lost bra # green/five! I had been planning to re-read the diary of making bras to see whether I'd actually made five instead of six.
I swear that that bra was not there when I put the backpack on the floor.
It looks much better than those that have been in service. Since five bras is plenty, I think I'll save it for special occasions for a while.
The shelf is up, but the backpack is still on the floor because I didn't allow for the brackets when deciding where to put it, so I have to knock the brackets out and put them back one notch lower, but I'm supposed to go easy on my back today and tomorrow, and I'm booked for eye surgery tomorrow and the next day, so the backpack is going to be an untidy heap for a while.
I did some sewing today! We were early for the back-jab appointment, so I finally took my wool jersey out of my bag. And I used up a needle of thread — had just pulled the needle off when I was called. But it was a short piece, probably left over from sewing on the other pocket. I re-threaded the needle while straightening up my waiting-room bag for tomorrow, and put another reel of buttonhole silk into the Altoids box.
I touched the underpants project today — I shoved the fabric over to make room on the ironing board to press the pockets of the shirt I plan to wear tomorrow.
While dressing, I thought it cold enough that I should wear my sheer silk tights under my cotton tights, and took what felt like five minutes determining which of the two pairs was stained. Then the dime dropped and I grabbed the basting needle, which was the only threaded needle handy, and worked a yellow bar tack on the label of the stained pair.
Now I'll go put it on.
Washday. I scrubbed all the lazy-daisy underpants with bar soap and a brush, then put peroxide on #1 and #2.
The underpants in the wash add up to six, and all the wore-out pants are accounted for, but I can't see how I have only one pair of old pants in the wash, when I wore old pants to wash in on Tuesday, and another pair on Saturday. I didn't wear linen pants on either day — they are both in the drawer.
Well, duh, all four wore-out pants were in the wash last Tuesday and I was wearing one of the good pairs.
The other way around yesterday: three doctor appointments and Sunday. Which adds up to five, so I wore my black panties to one of the appointments. I may wear the pair made of scraps from my yellow jersey tomorrow.
I just pressed two yards of sixty-inch sleazy jersey. I'm never going to buy fabric specifically for making underpants again. However loud and easy to get tired of the print is, scraps from making a T-shirts will do just fine.
Yesterday I copied the pattern for the back of my pants onto the desk calendar, which used it up, and I copied the pattern for the crotch and the crotch liner onto a discarded file folder. But when I started to copy the pattern for the front, I decided that no, corrugated cardboard, no matter how thin, Just Will Not Do.
But this morning, a bit more desperate to get on with making new panties, I decided that I could put up with it, copied the pattern, and marked six backs, six fronts, two crotches, and two crotch liners onto the hemp-and-cotton jersey. I think I decided to call that HCJ.
Then I felt that I was at risk of making mistakes, so I folded up the HCJ and set the table for supper.
Yesterday, the rotary cutter I keep for paper wouldn't cut the cardboards, and it's about time I changed the blade in my cloth cutter, so now I have two paper cutters.
Tomorrow is a dump tour. I should finish marking the HCJ on Friday. Things should go quite fast after that.
I must keep my eyes open for some sort of substitute for oaktag. Hmm . . . I haven't been to the Grace College bookstore in years. I think they've moved it twice since I last set foot in it.
I marked one front, one crotch, and two crotch linings, then folded up for lunch.
In the afternoon, I finished the marking and cut out back #7. I extracted a boxlet — what does one call small plastic containers? — of five blades from a bubble pack, then realized that there was also a boxlet with one new blade in it. Got the ziplock bag of spare blades so ruffled up that I couldn't get it back into the pocket of the tote bag, at least not when I wanted to get the piece cut and clear the table for supper.
The table is now back to its smallest size — which is impressively small after yea many days of having the table fill up the whole kitchen. DH unfolded it to set up his train tracks, and I told him to leave it, but with operations and other distractions it took me a long time to get around to putting the HCJ on it.
I marked guidelines measured from the black line of stretches stitches down one edge. (Maybe I should call it a mahogany line, since it was the dark-brown table showing through.) The guidelines were definitely not on the true grain, and they didn't agree with each other either. I may have my knickers in a twist.
I got seven pairs out of two yards — an appropriate number for underpants, though one actually needs eight. These and the PFD panties will probably wear out at the same time; though the PFD has a head start, the HCJ is very thin.
Cutting out, and, in deference to my back, carrying each piece to the sewing room as soon as it's free. There are still some purple marks from the guidelines I drew with the air-erasable marker.
I thought I'd finish, but C7 and L7 were too faint to touch up. This morning I re-traced them with a marker that isn't dying (I threw the other one out) and cut them out.
Now it's time to look up my assembly instructions. I think they are in ROUGHTEXT under "underwear".
The pattern was last used in May of 2016.
Today I finished sewing on the second pocket of my wool jersey, then tried it on. I think I should have moved the pockets an inch higher, but it's way better than it was. I'm definitely not going to pick out all that closed backstitching!
If I sew the division for the pencil pocket tomorrow — oops, I should have pinned the division and tried a pencil in it while I had the jersey on.
Anyhow, it should be reasonably easy to have it fit to wear — well, possible to wear; it really shows its age — on my next ride.
It doesn't fit any looser than the cotton one, but I might get away with thinner T-shirts under it. And I won't worry as much about rain.
Didn't take a single stitch in the wool jersey. I did try it on, determine that the mark for the pencil pocket is correct, and mark the cell-phone pocket.
Ran this file through the validator; found only two easily-corrected mistakes. One of the mistakes was in the date line for the first entry, which suggests that I haven't validated this file before.
I hung the sheet and pillow cases on the line, but dried the second load on a rack and hangers, and ran the cat shirt, a washrag, a towel, and Dave's socks through the drier. I forgot to run the third load until suppertime, but it was only a handful. By then the clothes on the rack were dry, so I put them away before hanging up the socks and boxer shorts. It was windy, so I put away the sheet and the pillow cases before my nap.
This morning I sewed the pencil pocket, partly-closed the cell-phone pocket, tucked in a loose end, and picked the red basting out of the bottom of the notebook/pencil pocket. I think I'd put that in to mark the top of the pocket, then decided that the bottom was better at the top or something.
After that I darned a run that was starting at the junction of the right shoulder seam and the collar. I used fine silk, but didn't do much in the way of passing it through loops in danger of running. 3.5 isn't quite strong enough. A smaller needle would have helped, too.
Then I re-threaded the needle with white Medici to darn the hole that has appeared in the same place on the left. I found that I'd marked grain lines on the fabric to help with this, but they had faded to near invisibility. With a good light I can trace over them, but before I got around to doing it, it was lunchtime and now it's nap time.
I darned the shoulder seam of the wool jersey and dabbed the guide lines with a wet rag.
This afternoon I finally started assembling the panties, and by the time the light changed from bad to unusable, I had briefs 6 & 7 with all four parts attached, and the other five pairs ready to start attaching the fronts.
Since I have separate crotch and liner patterns, the reason given for attaching the crotch first in http://wlweather.net/PAGESEW/RUFFTEXT/ROUGH039.TXT does not apply, but it's still a good idea. It allows you to do the first pinning the natural way, with the right sides together, and it's easier to pin a short edge between the ends of a long one than the other way around.
This stage would have been helped a whole bunch if I'd laid the lining pattern on each crotch after marking it on the fabric, and marked the places where the lining ends. Guessing at a half inch works, but isn't elegant.
L7 about to be sewn to F7, which has already been sewn to C7.
When marking the pieces, I found it easier to number them than to count them, and when I sorted the pieces into briefs, I naturally started with "1", which left 7 on top, so this is the first everything-stuffed-inside wad to go through the sewing machine. I've used this method hundreds of times, but I still get twinges of wanting to cut 7 off the chain and straighten it out to make sure it worked.
#7 has come to the top again, ready to sew the first side seam. I love the moments when a garment starts to look like a garment, rather than a pile of pieces.
This is particularly striking in the baby bootie pattern that Mother learned from a great aunt and taught to me. One appears to be working an oval coaster, then a warped coaster, then when the first row of the openwork at the toe is worked, suddenly it's a shoe, and it's nearly finished.
A couple of side seams later I was tired and the light was gone, so I cut the chain of briefs off the sewing machine and dropped it into the green bag I've been carrying to Grossnickel's. Knew at the time I'd have to pull it out when I get my sunglasses out for tomorrow's ride.
For a time I used right-angle pins to match points, then turned the work over and inserted seamline pins. After a bit, I just turned it over. I can sweep the right-angle pins out without stopping the machine, and this fuzzy fabric stays in place without much coercion
On the other hand, it's hard to match points when the fuzzy fabric won't slip.
I pinned with the piece being added toward me, so that I could see what I was doing, then turned it over so that I could see the permanent basting and know that I was fully concealing it. There was no spot where failing to conceal it was a plausible possibility.
Yesterday morning, I got a couple more seams done before rushing off to the fall hike. I'm now in second side seams.
The chain of seven briefs is still piled up on the treadle sewing machine, which I left open Saturday night. Now that I'm through with the post-op eye drops, we don't need it for a writing surface. I draped the pillow sham that I use for a table cloth when the machine is closed over the head to keep the cat out of my dish of pins, and draped the sweat rags usually stored under the pillow sham on top of it.
I've time tonight, but I'm sleepy.
I've cut #7 off the chain, and found it fully assembled. Now to clean all the stuff I took off the curtains off the Necchi and hem the waist and leg holes.
Washday, so I wound the webbing hanging on the drying rack onto eight plastic spools — the tubes that balls of 100/6 thread come on.
Dave found a roll of inch-and-an-eighth webbing while cleaning the barn. There was a tie through the hole in the middle, so I plunked it into a bucket of soapy water and soaked it for days, changing the water now and again. Oddly, there was a clearly-defined strip in the middle that stubbornly refused to stop being dark gray.
One tie sufficed for soaking in a bucket, but when I ran it through a rinse cycle, I remembered that one needs at least three ties to keep a skein in order. It was too late to neaten it, so I ran the tangle through with a load of wash — or something; I've forgotten what I washed with it. When I took the webbing out of the washer, I learned that the dark streak had been a layer of used webbing — which, after a thorough washing, is no longer such a contrast to the other pieces.
So I untangled it and hung it on the drying rack, where it stayed until today. I must snitch eight of Dave's string tags to label the rolls. [When I cleaned off the ironing board, I put the rolls into two freezer bags and wrote on the bag labels.]
There are four with red threads down the middle and four plain herringbone twill.
Found a PDF of the Gohn Bros. catalog on the web, and they have twelve-inch squares of wool felt. I say somewhere on this site that wool felt is no longer available; I must find that remark and edit it. My search terms were «"Gohn Bros." Middlebury IN"», and the Gohn Bros. website was the first hit.
I found the place — or a place — and added a paragraph. ROUGH007.TXT.
That page will take hours to translate into HTML, which is probably why it hasn't been done yet.
Further perusal of the Gohn Brothers catalog showed that they have wool socks of the sort I didn't find at Big R. That's a bit far to drive now that Bonneyville Mill is closed, and it will be past thick-sock season when the mill opens again.
I started repairing frayed hems on a pair of Dave's pants on Monday, and finished the job on Tuesday. Haven't done anything today except empty the cat box.
I picked out the frayed hems, cut along where it was worn through, then decided that I didn't want to mess with straightening up the piece I'd cut off and went to Pants Offcuts and Shirt tails for the piece I cut off when I shortened them. Those were definitely my stitches that I picked out, but there was no gray offcut in the box. So I used binding strips left over from the cat quilts. Not the most suitable fabric in my stash, but it was already cut and the edge pressed under.
I noticed, when hanging them in the closet, that another pair of frayed-bottoms had had the bottom turned up and the raw edge covered with gray mystery tape. That would probably have been a better finish, and just as easy since tape doesn't need an edge pressed under.
Spent most of the day in bed, but found time to pin the waist and leg-holes of one of the pairs of briefs.
I'll have to put away all the stuff I took off the curtains before I zig-zag them.
Only fifteen pins left on my Grabbit, but I have an un-opened box of red glass-head pins.
Tonight, I picked the hems out of Dave's insulated jeans. I plan to darn a couple of holes, then put them back a quarter inch or so wider.
There was a pair of pants in yesterday's wash that it's probably not too late to mend in the same way.
So I checked that Dave could do without them for a few days, and picked the hems out. Turned out that the thread was so weak that I could tear them open. A careless yank also tore a couple of inches of the weakened fold, but setting the Necchi to free arm and zig-zagging along the weak streaks took care of that — with a little iteration at holes. Then I might as well pin up an inch-and-a-quarter hem, the pin magnet and measuring gadget being right there. And the white thread on the machine probably matched about as well as anything I have on hand, so now they are back in the closet.
Forgot to lengthen the stitch after turning off the zig-zag. I lengthened from 2mm to 2.5mm for the second leg. I prefer 3mm for hems, but I didn't want too great a contrast with the other leg.
I do want the ironing board clear before working on the insulated jeans.
Stitched the hems in briefs #7. Starting at the end left me with the hardest one to mark. I planned to mark with N bar tacks arranged to suggest the numeral N — easy with 1 and 2, since simple strokes are where they came from — but seven bar tacks arranged in a 7? I've decided to use chain stitch, four stitches in the stem and three in the crossbar. Now to find the purple floss.
The machine was still set up for the pants hems; I set the zig-zag for widest and turned the length from 2.5mm to 2mm, then remembered that knits need a longer zig-zag than wovens and turned it to two and a quarter; that seems to be about right. With the needle in the middle and the raw edge just touching the left side of the hole in the toe, the zigs hit just barely into single fabric and the zags were firmly into two layers.
I put the cord elastic that I cut yesterday into briefs #7.
Then the next step required a little cleared space, so I neatened the black pincushion and sorted all the stuff off the yellow pincushion onto it.
The yellow one is a scrap of banana wool folded into a rectangle. I took out some of the upholstery pins holding it in that shape and nailed it to the wall with two old sewing-machine needles. Needles are longer and thinner than any of the nails I've been able to find. Then I nailed my papers of ravellings to it with straight pins, throwing out a lot of silk ravels that had lost their provenance. Only two of those that weren't pinned to paper (or, in one case, wrapped around a tape winder/hem gauge) were sure of identification.
I threw them out literally — I took them to the door and let the wind blow them away.
Some time back, I "temporarily" pinned all the bodkins to a strip of wool pinned to the spare standard-shelving bracket that I hang my whisk broom and tape measure on, so this leaves only a handful of needles to sort and store.
After much puzzling, I pinned the black pincushion to the curtain.
And now I remember that I wanted clear space so I could mend the gap where I put the elastic in, but I've had my lunch and it's time for a nap.
Desperate to iron a shirt — he's already worn the other one un-ironed — I finally got around to cleaning off the ironing board. After ironing the shirt, I flattened the hems I picked out of Dave's insulated jeans. The weather report says I need to finish turning them up to conceal the frayed edges Real Soon Now.
I started pressing, realized that I really, really need that wider sleeve board I've been wanting, maybe call it a leg board — leg board? I've got one! Been so long since I shoved it inside a leg that I forgot that that was what that strip of plywood was.
The denim is worn clear through in spots, but the flannel lining isn't worn, so I plan to run a row or two of zig-zag around to hold the edges of the holes, and then turn up the hem. I plan to mark a turning line below the bright-indigo stitching line instead of measuring from the edge, so that the line will be a uniform distance from the fold and look deliberate.
Sometime today I photographed the "sewing tools" Dave found in the barn. We finally figured out that the rotary cutter is a wallpaper trimmer, but what his father did with a needle wheel, neither of us has a clue. Except that he did enough of it that the hole in the middle is greatly enlarged. Still rolls straight, so I may enlarge the hole some more, if I have a use for a really-sharp tracing wheel.
This morning, I put the old tools into a hearing-aid box and labeled it "old tools".
Today I finished the insulated jeans and put them back into the closet -- on two hangers with four clothespins each! These pants are heavy.
I stuck a piece of correction tape on the bed of the machine and zig-zagged around twice, once on one edge and once on the other. I left the flatbed plate off thinking that I'd need the free arm for stitching the hems, but when I realized what a pain it would be to turn pants that thick inside out and back again, I put the flatbed plate back on and stitched inside the teacup.
When I wanted to mark, I couldn't find either of my wash-out markers -- the one I wanted is very conspicuous in the mug from where I'm sitting now -- so I took a fading marker that had mysteriously appeared. I know that I wore that out and threw it into Dave's wastebasket. So I pinned and stitched each leg as soon as it was marked.
When stitching the first leg, I found that I not only couldn't sew over the flat-felled seam, I couldn't get it under the presser foot. I set it aside, and started stitching the other leg as close to the flat-felled seam as possible -- and stitched over the seam with no trouble at all. I thought that meant that I could machine-sew the gap I'd left if I stitched in the other direction, but that would have required stuffing the entire garment under the throat, and it was awkward enough on the leaf of the sewing-machine table.
So there was nothing to it but to hand sew, stab-stitching all the way; even the rather long bits that were not near the seam were too thick to backstitch in the usual way.
But now they are off my ironing board.
shorten insulated jeans and
off my list.
I want to wear the new briefs tomorrow, so marking them was my top priority this morning. But first I had to organize my embroidery-gig bag so I could find the purple floss. I hadn't gone very far before I found a needle threaded with purple floss, part of an abandoned project that I'd saved in case the child came back. That was years ago, so I cut the needle off the project and worked seven chain stitches in the shape of a 7.
The result wasn't as subtle as I had hoped. I should have taken just one strand of the three, and threaded it into a smaller needle.
And now I have a partly-sorted embroidery gig all over the parlor. Whatever shall I do with all those little pieces of thin, sturdy corrugated cardboard? I don't feel like cutting them into circles when I have no prospect of using those already cut.
I wish I knew how to get gigs. I'm sure there's a slew of events where I'd be welcome if I offered my services.
Further observation shows that only two tins marked "cardboard" contain cardboards, and each could hold one or a few more. That chore is for evenings, when I'm not very bright.
Embroidery-gig pack is still all over the living room. I found a box to put the smaller pieces of cardboard for cutting cardboards in. I plan to cut the pure-white areas of the telescope box and throw the rest in the bin.
Oops! While trimming a seam allowance on briefs 1, I snipped a notch into the hem allowance of a leg hole, weakening it at a point of strain.
And I thought it was safe to insert pins to make use of the last few minutes before nap time.
But it isn't as much of a strain as it was before
I put "ears" on the crotch (pardon me nannybots,
"third piece") pattern.
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