It was the right thing to do, gathering all my toys on the couch. Sitting among them, I could decide which one to start working on.
It was the crocheted person I'd rescued from SP thrift store, who was a tube from the neck down. She looked like a formless washer woman, akin to those dolls whose crocheted lower-halves cover toilet paper rolls.
I gave her a neck and arms, with hands tucked into white trousers-- formerly a huge circular skirt. I sewed leatherette rounds on the bottoms of her legs, so she stands up. With shirt buttons, belt bead, and a vintage button bow tie, she's a dapper doll.
Here's a laptop photo:
And this is what my couch looks like now:
It makes me happy and proud.
I was shocked when a neighbor came by this morning, saw me sewing the doll, and said, "Watch out you don't turn into one of those old ladies with so many toys you can't sit on your couch."
I said, "But, I'd be OK being that!"
What is this impulse to clean up?
My sister emailed last night that she'd brought back our father's (once our mother's) sewing basket for me, as I'd asked, which is very nice, but then she said,
"And I just went through it and got rid of all the tangled threads and things."
Nooooooo! I wrote right back, asking her to get them out of the trash, if possible: "Those thread nests are one the wonderful, unique things you can't find anywhere except in old sewing baskets."
Thankfully, she could and did rescue them.
Whew!
"Now you say it," she said, "I can see how lovely they are."
Yes.
It was the crocheted person I'd rescued from SP thrift store, who was a tube from the neck down. She looked like a formless washer woman, akin to those dolls whose crocheted lower-halves cover toilet paper rolls.
I gave her a neck and arms, with hands tucked into white trousers-- formerly a huge circular skirt. I sewed leatherette rounds on the bottoms of her legs, so she stands up. With shirt buttons, belt bead, and a vintage button bow tie, she's a dapper doll.
Here's a laptop photo:
I was shocked when a neighbor came by this morning, saw me sewing the doll, and said, "Watch out you don't turn into one of those old ladies with so many toys you can't sit on your couch."
I said, "But, I'd be OK being that!"
[watch this space]
What is this impulse to clean up?
My sister emailed last night that she'd brought back our father's (once our mother's) sewing basket for me, as I'd asked, which is very nice, but then she said,
"And I just went through it and got rid of all the tangled threads and things."
Nooooooo! I wrote right back, asking her to get them out of the trash, if possible: "Those thread nests are one the wonderful, unique things you can't find anywhere except in old sewing baskets."
Thankfully, she could and did rescue them.
Whew!
"Now you say it," she said, "I can see how lovely they are."
Yes.
