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‘I was all fired up and ready to go when ‘beep, beep”
107
In BlogsOn Friday 26th Oct, 2018

‘I was all fired up and ready to go when ‘beep, beep”

Written by

Debra Trayler

Debra had just got the thread through the needle when she had to stop sewing. Source: Pixabay

As a recently retired person, I was sorely tried today when I attempted to do something that, not long ago, I could dash off in a jiffy. I was all fired up and ready to go, but…

A few weeks back, I decided my favourite cooking apron needed pockets – I need them for all sorts of reasons but, in particular, to stash my media player while I listen to audiobooks or music – so I decided to make some. That necessitated the game of ‘Find the Sewing Machine’, as yet unpacked from our last move. It also required me doing a “pocket review” – so many choices when looking at what’s in skirts, pants and jackets; whether I should make them inside or outside; how small, large, angled, flat, ruched they might be… Sheesh! Once I had made that decision I was off to buy some calico and then I had to pencil out a design; determine the placement of the pockets, cut the fabric, yadda yadda yadda.

I had committed to a day. I sat in front of my machine. I stared. I fiddled with the lamp, then I fiddled with the bobbin. More staring. “Okay,” I said to myself, taking a deep breath. “Can I actually remember how to thread the damn thing?” The last time I used the sewing machine was when our grandsons had due dates… They are now in double figures! 

I confirmed that the bobbin was good. I had definitely threaded the machine correctly. Hang on, which way does the cotton go into the needle – front to back, left to right? I thought left to right. Haha! Two pair of glasses and a torch later, I finally got the damn thread through the needle eye.  At about this time, I prayed that my husband would not walk in, for I was sure I looked like such an idiot!

The smallest amount of success made me almost burst into a lap of honour. However, the ‘beep beep’ of our disabled son’s bus arriving home meant I had the pack the lot away so little fingers couldn’t get up to mischief and harm! All this pent up energy and still no pockets on my cooking apron. There is always tomorrow… Don’t you hate it when you’re just about to start something and have to stop?

Can you relate to this situation? When was the last time you had to stop doing something you’d only just started?

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