I'd throw up both my hands and holler, but I'm too tired




I thought I would be excited. I thought I would be gleeful. I thought I would be exultant. I thought I would be skipping around the house with joy. Dancing on the ceiling in Christian Louboutins. I thought. Oh. Yes. I thought.
But what I am is tired. Exhausted. It took me 3 hours and 50 minutes to iron my (admittedly) cheap cotton muslin and cut it out. That's, yes, three hours and 50 minutes to cut out my simple 5-piece pattern and iron my fabric. You understood. Your comprehension is there. Gold star. (Oh how I love Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. And how.) And I wanna show, I wanna show my appreciation . . .
Yes, that's 5 pieces. And, no, they were not easy. Thank goodness there was no chicken involved.
I did learn some things. The bed is not a good place to cut out a pattern. I repeat: The bed is not a good place to cut out a pattern. Not even when simply used as the support for a cheesy cardboard cutting board. Too wide. Much. The sewing books are right. Go figure.
And there must be something better than my ancient Dritz cutting board, which I've had since I was a teen. It's not stable. It skitters about like a pine needle on a windy day. Further, pins and cardboard don't mix. They?re not exactly oil and water. But still. And no lookin? back for us . . .
I also learned that I do indeed need a better iron than our little Black & Decker. It does not do the job. Not even close. Even after an hour-and-a-half of ironing. (I watched both the CBS and NBC evening news. Oh, sweetie, I am so well-informed. Yes. There is still tea in China.) But, alas, my fabric still has wrinkles. Despite sprinkling liberally with water. Despite steam, pitifully weak though it was.
And I learned that sometimes stopping and doing a few yoga poses is a good thing. A very good thing. Excellent panacea for the aching back that leaning over the bed can cause. Especially the reclining hero and child?s poses. They give one the strength to go on. I highly recommend them. Keep that yoga mat close by when sewing. This I have learned.
But I do have a question. Or two. So, most knowledgeable dressmakers, answer. Please. After all, I want to be able to wear this frock. Not ship it off to Goodwill with the discarded humidifier and old true crime books.
1. I seem to be unable to cut a smooth line. (And my teacher was so proud of me back in kindergarten, because I had a natural gift for that. A talent lost. Or misplaced. Kleenex, please.) Will those little jags spoil the finished garment, or muslin in this case?
2. I also went inside the lines a couple of times. (And this so disappoints me when I am inspecting patterns for The Blue Gardenia http://www.thebluegardenia.com. Careless seamstress, I have been known to mutter. More than once. More than twice. More than three times, in fact.) Is my muslin ruined? Must I start over? Please say no. Puhleeze. My lower back screams in agony at the thought. Loudly. Insistently.
So. Let me know your thoughts. Share, please. Please. I intend to stitch this up tomorrow. If I finish my paperwork, that is. I hate paperwork. Ugh. Ugh. Makes me wanna holler, throw up both my hands . . . Drat. Drat squared.
Fingers crossed. Send those positive thoughts my way. And all that.