Sew What.

As the final f-bomb leaves my mouth, husband calmly asks where my wine glass is.

“I did this sober.”

“Maybe that’s your problem.”

So. Sew. Mom took me shopping for my birthday and bought me the Singer “Simple” sewing machine. Bottom rung on the model pole, very basic, very cheap, and then on sale. She hands me the receipt to keep for warranty and wishes me good luck. I am not to contact her for any reason regarding my experiences with the machine.

After a few attemps of, “Hey, this can’t be so bad..,” I grab the curtain I once made with heat-n-bond and think, ‘cool. Now I can get a finished edge on the bottom of this thing.’ I cut off the excess fabric, iron a hem, and sew. Looks good! Wow! I did it!

Hung it up and the hem was done inside out. Okay, whatever. Artistic.

That extra fabric is about oh big enough to split in threes. I don’t need a pattern, besides, I can’t read those damn tissue papers anyway. I slice it into three equal parts. So far so good, lines look straight, could probably fake it as a valance somehow, piece of cake.

Iron needs water…no steam. Pour water all over the rug. Ah it’ll dry out. Whoah! Too much steam! Too much steam! HOT. The silver part is hot. Iron a hem, you can do this. You can do this.

Fabric threads everywhere. Hooking on tape which is holding a BandAid on the tip of a finger from a previous unrelated incident. Iron them into hem, who will notice those bumps anyway. Begin sewing. Thread wraps around internal workings of the bobbin thingy. I remember when I once had Mom’s 1979 machine when I pulled those particular pieces off hers, she said she’s never taken them off before. Huh. I’ve now pulled mine off 5 times in this one project because thread was jammed everywhere.

Wait. Is the needle supposed to be stuck? I’m only supposed to have two threads coming out of there, why are there 5? Note to sewers: don’t use the seam-ripper to pull thread out. All it does is, well, rip the thread and then you have 10 threads sticking out of places they shouldn’t be.

Fake velour sweat pants are not the best option when trying to keep a straight line on cotton. Sticky. Ah. Artistic. There! All three sections are hemmed, sewn together, we’re set! Final ironing, here we come.

Finish ironing the 9-foot long valance…window is 50 inches…why did I make it this big? Oh well. Wait.

Oh crap.

No rod pocket.

“Where’s your wine glass?”

“I did this sober.”

“Maybe that’s your problem.”