Catfacehorse

For a few glorious weeks I have been borrowing my sister’s made-in-this-decade Janome sewing machine. It’s actually only a few years old and runs like an absolute dream. My sister was given it for her 21st (I got a Persian rug, so I’m not complaining) and I babysat it for a few weeks while she was moving house. I went into a never-before-seen sewing frenzy;  I sewed two bags, a scarf,  seven bibs and a little baby quilt, which is more sewing than seen in the last five years combined.  There was no swearing, the bobbin stayed where it was supposed to, and even sewing hemp to raw silk the stitches were strong and even. Bliss.

My sewing machine is a refugee from a 1970’s north-western Tasmania home economics class. My grandmother rescued it when they were all getting replaced a few years ago.  On the upside it has a lovely solid feel, no-nonsense metal levers and dials that are satisfying to twiddle. On the downside, the bobbin has gone dodgy again, and the tension never stays right. Which is a recipe for swearing and giving up. With a machine that works I can actually contemplate trying a few more complicated things. I know ‘a poor workman blames his tools’, but at least with my sister’s machine I had a fighting chance of finishing things that stay together! My plan now is to find someone with a neglected new-ish machine sitting guiltily in the corner that they are willing to get rid of for a reasonable  price.

In the photos above are the most recent fruits of my sewing labour - a little baby blanket stitched together for my new neice, and a raw hemp and hemp silk scarf for my lovely Owen’s birthday (funny story, neice arrived three weeks early, on Owen’s birthday - her middle name was very nearly ‘birthdaythief’). (Also good reason for sewing, avoiding being bankrupted by double birthdays!) I actually enjoyed sewing these pieces together, sigh, missing the Janome already.

Once again, I am participating in Meet me at Mikes Words and Pictures write-along.

As a kid, I loved making little things. Little loaves of bread from cut up corks, little painted pictures for the walls of my doll house (made for us by my dad - a square house for me, a triangular one for my sister). I also made lots of little books - one was entitled ‘Rid the Flat’, and was about a world-travelling cat called Rid, who meets with an unfortunate end. This booklet is sadly in Tasmania at my parents house still, so will have to be shared another day. I did find another booklet however - the slightly less imaginatively titled ‘Holiday Booklet’.

Click through to view on Flickr, I have put in little notes about the story.