We Don't Sow

I have recently decided that I should learn to sew.  You know, in all the free time I have.  This decision was made when I ordered a couple of infinity scarves from a very talented local WAHM (work-at-home-mom, for those outside the cloth diaper cult world) who was taking a break from making the most fabulous cloth diapers known to babies bums to make some mamas these scarves.  Now, never have I ever ordered a diaper, gotten it in the mail, and thought, "I could make this" but that is exactly what happened when I got these scarves.  They were beautiful.  They were incredibly well-made.  But they actually looked pretty simple to make.  So simple in fact, that I thought perhaps I could even do it.

So here my friends, is Kelsey's 10 Step Learn-to-Sew Program:

• Step 1 - Ask your mother to teach you
• My mother is an incredible teacher.  She will actually be retiring this year after 26 (I think) years of teaching kindergarten.  I know she is an incredible teacher because, well, she is my MOM after all.  She was my first and still is my primary teacher.  Anyway...in this case however, teaching me to sew did not prove to be successful.  My mom uses my grandmother's sewing machine from (I swear) the 1800s...you know, the ones that are actually attached to a huge wooden table??  Yep, here it is:
  
  
    I ended up mangling a onesie I was attempting to hem for my son.  Sewing fail.

• Step 2 - Sign up for a JoAnn Fabric's sewing class
•  Easy-peasy.  Go in, sign up, pay your money, learn to sew.  Except...I failed to plan ahead (surprise!!) and ended up with no one to watch my little mister during the class that I had already signed up and paid for.  So, he accompanies me to the first part of class.  About 15 minutes into it, I give him my cell phone as a distraction...and he throws it across the room, causing it to come apart and spatter under the other pupils' feet.  He laughs gleefully.  I apologize profusely.  After his grammy comes to get him, I manage to make this wallet:
  
  I am a natural!  This had absolutely nothing to do with the instructor who was hovering over my shoulder the entire time.  Nope, all me.

• Step 3 - Acquire / Borrow / Steal a sewing machine
• Now would be a good time to mention that my mother DOES actually have a more modern sewing machine.  And by "more modern" I mean from the 1970s (which is technically almost a century more modern than the one she uses.)  I have nicknamed it the Steel Beast.  It looks like this:
  
  The Steel Beast weighs approximately 40 pounds and has not been used since the day my grandparents bought it for her.  In the 1970s.  That is because, and I quote: "It has a lot of stitches and it's too confusing."  So my mom and I dig it out of her basement...it is behind an old aquarium and a plastic bin full of books, and it is COVERED in dust.  Sawdust from my dad's workbench, but also 30-some years of not-moving-sitting-on-a-back-shelf-in-someone's-basement dust.  My mom insists that I take it outside immediately and Clorox wipe it down.  I am positive this will work however, because I have a couple of things working in my favor: one, I am now a professional because I took a 2 hour class at JoAnn Fabric's and I am apparently a natural at sewing (I mean, look at that wallet again.  Beautiful.); two, my mom somehow managed to find the manual and I am very good at following instructions in picture form (how do you think dentists BECOME dentists??  It ain't by working on real people, that's for sure); and three, I am incredibly cheap and the most inexpensive sewing machine I can find is close to $150 and looks like it will break after a month of use.  And trust me, the Steel Beast is NOT going to break.  And it's free. 

•  Step 4 - Read the manual
• Over and over and over and over and over and over.  Screw something up.  Repeat. 

• Step 5 - Make something simple
• I decide that I will start with a drawstring bag.  It goes well enough:
  
  But...I feel like I cheated.  I didn't use a pattern, I just free-handed it (so-to-speak).  So I attempt to be like a real big-girl sew-er and use a pattern to make another wallet.  It goes semi-okay-I-guess.  For a wallet that will never see the light of day, at least:
  
  
  
  I decide free-handing it is the way to go.  Dentists are spacial and all of that, right?  (Please note that says "spacial," not "special.")

• Step 6 - Get a custom order
• I excitedly show Patrick my drawstring bag, and was even more excited when he asked me to make him one to put his extra cash in (side note: Patrick has a box of "cool stuff" that he puts things like playing cards and cash in...I think the concept of having a "cool stuff" box is something boys never outgrow, the cool stuff just gets different).  I perhaps get a tad over excited about this and proceed to pull out the huge stash of fabric I have been (secretly) buying online and hoarding upstairs in the laundry room.  I spread it ALL out and ask what fabric he wants his bag made from.  He looks at me with a "you can't be serious, you have sewn approximately 3 items and you already have all this fabric?!?!?" look, but smartly just chooses a fabric and (after pestering his desired dimensions out of him) goes on his way. 
  
• Step 7 -Learn the importance of seam allowances
• I decide that I am clearly enough of a proper seamstress that I should have a pin cushion.  I find a relatively easy tutorial and I am off to sewing!  I enjoy telling myself that it looks cool, alternative and modern like this:
  
  Which is way better than telling myself that I messed up the seam allowances and it sits wonky like this:
  
• Step 8 - Try different stitches
• My mom is right, the Steel Beast does have a lot of stitches.  And a lot of ways to use each stitch too (length and zig-zag controls?)  I want to try the stitches, but I don't like to waste fabric just stitching for the heck of it.  I decide to make some un-paper towels (which, to my understanding, is just how hip, young, environmentally minded people say "dishcloths") to add to our stack.  I turn and top-stitch them, each side of each one with a different stitch.  Now if I could just remember which side corresponded with which stitch, I'd be all set.
  

•  Step 9 - Organize your sewing space
• We actually have a spare bedroom that is designated the "craft room."  It houses all of our wrapping paper, my paint supplies, our little mister's paint supplies, some assorted fabric, dot markers, construction paper, scissors, tape, etc. etc. etc.  We have a nice, roomy table up there, along with a desk for Patrick to use when he studies.  But...it is right next to our son's bedroom, and the only free time I have is when he is asleep.  And the Steel Beast is noisy.  And the last thing I want is less free time a cranky child because I woke him up while sewing.  So our dining room has become my sewing room.  I like to think of it as yet another reason why I clearly deserve to win a housekeeper of the year award.
  
  Side note: no, I did not make the diaper that is in the bottom of this picture.  And no, I have no idea why it is there.  <--- Housekeeper of the year.  Just sayin'.

• Step 10 - Debut your work
• So the day of reckoning has come.  I have made an infinity scarf and I will proudly wear it to a social function.  And I do.  Annnnnnd...no one says a word about it.  Not.one.word.  And trust me...they saw it.  It's not the type of scarf you miss.
  
  
  I like it, but anyone who knows me knows that I have odd fashion sense (or maybe NO fashion sense).  I like big (ie: gaudy), bold (ie: tacky), statement (ie: not necessarily a good one) pieces.  Which will be what you can tell yourself when you see me wearing my next creation...
  

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes

After 17 years of consistent running, 6 of which were competitive, I would wager that there are very few running "experiences" that I have not had the pleasure of having.  Vomit, check.  Other intestinal feats of strength, check.  Using the woods as a bathroom, check.  Falling and the sequel to falling (bleeding), check.  Blisters, check, check, check, and...check.  But after my half marathon two weekends ago, I am going to experience something I never have before.

I am going to lose a toenail.

That's right, I said it.  And if it grosses you out that I typed that, then you should stop reading.

How is it, you might ask yourself, that I have managed to go this long without losing a toenail?  My dad's feet barely have any as a norm, and Patrick has lost his fair share over the years.  I'd like to chalk it up to my superior form, you know, my feet are perfectly aligned and I strike on them evenly blah blah blah.  I'd even accept that my beloved Asics are impenetrable to the type of trauma necessary to injure a toe badly enough to cause this.  And although my feet are misshapen, as my pinkie toe (when straightened) is the same length (or longer) as my fourth toe, that seems like it would encourage injury, not prevent it.

Nope, it's as simple as this.  In 17 years of running, I have never once stubbed my toe on the couch less than an hour after getting home from a race.  What's that?  You don't think that counts as a legitimate running injury?  Excuse me???  It legitimately hurt, and I'm pretty sure that my clumsiness could only be attributed to being tired after running (yes, I'm SURE that's it...). Therefore, it is a running injury and I will count it as such.

Now that we've established the legitimacy of this injury, let's get on with the pictures.

This is what my toe looked like 2 days after the race.  At the time, I thought it looked pretty bad and decided against wearing sandals out of the house that day.  In retrospect, I should have embraced the sandals because who knows when I will get a chance to bare my feet again.

This is about 5 days post-race.  I was taking off my work shoes this day and said to Patrick, "I think my toenail fell off."  He barely glanced at my foot and said, "no it didn't."  "How can you tell?" I asked.  His response: "When it falls off, it won't be black anymore."  How much I have to learn...

Current picture, 9 days post-race.  I am getting impatient.  I have considered buying black nail polish and painting all of my toenails so this one doesn't look like the pinkie step-child of the group.  Just.fall.off.already.





So I will continue to wait (and wait and wait...) until I am one less toenail.  And for those of you wondering, my next race will be a 5k that will be winner-take-all for either me or Patrick.  So hopefully after that little competition, I won't be one less toenail AND one less husband...