If my life was a flock of ducks, they certainly would not have been in a row the last few weeks. They were definitely free-range, out-of-bounds and gone wild. I like order. I like to feel like I have a handle on things. I like control, not of others, but of myself and my life. And, it’s all an illusion.
I sew. Not just, I know how to sew. I have a sewing room and an entire closet with bins for all the pieces of fabric I own, all folded and color-coded and organized. I have a library of books on sewing – mostly quilting. The appliqué books are together. The piecing books are in their spot. And the historical books on quilts from the 1800s are all grouped together. The idea is so that as I want something for sewing, I can locate it easily.
I also have a queen size bed in the room, because sometimes that room is needed as a second guest bedroom. The idea was that even though the bed takes up valuable real estate in the room, it could double as a place to lay out projects so I could view them as they progress. Great theory. But here’s the way it actually works.
Several months ago, I spent a considerable amount of time putting all the photos that have been printed into order by date. They are stored in photo boxes and the boxes are lined up in order. So, now all I have to do is put them in the photo albums so people can actually look at them. They are still in the boxes, and I have no idea if the boxes are still lined up in order, as they’ve been moved several times as guests have needed to use the bed for, get this – sleeping. That’s one corner of the bed.
On the opposite corner is the pile of clothes that have made it through washing and drying and folding and being taken upstairs, but have yet progressed through the ironing cycle. They usually get dealt with in one fell-swoop every month or so. Usually when I run out of napkins for dinner.
Then there are the rotating piles. There’s the quilt top that’s just missing its outside borders. It’s folded and stacked with the fabric that will be used on the back and the material for the binding. It’s been there, in a variety of locations on the bed, most of the year. There is the black watch plaid flannel fabric for a skirt that has been camped out since last fall. I didn’t get to it last fall or winter, and then it was too warm to think about. There’s the navy with small cream polka dots for my favorite shirtwaist type dress with a big full skirt. That was bought right after the 4th of July. I even made a special trip into Tallahassee (30 miles away) to get more of the fabric sometime this summer, because I was going to get to that one right away, and I couldn’t wait until the next time I needed to go into town.
Two weeks ago, there were the parts of the Halloween costumes for Nate and Max that needed to be altered a bit or made entirely. I’m happy to say that they got finished and sent off in plenty of time to be worn this past Thursday. Nate’s flying monkey from the newer Wizard of Oz movie, complete with bellman’s jacket and little hat and Max’s peapod with stuffed peas and a hat with a stem on it were big hits. Those got finished and off the bed.
A newer resident of the space is the red, white and blue Hunter’s Star blocks that are finally out of a bin with a lid, not to be confused with the afformentioned color coded bins, and are a work in progress. A friend of mine and I have set up a day each month to get together and work on our matching quilts, so that, come 4th of July next year, we’ll actually have the quilts for which we bought the fabric and pattern about 6 years ago.
I’ve started working on any number of the above projects during the past few months, but I keep getting interrupted. As I bring someone in my sewing room to help them with their project, my stuff gets taken off the cutting table and is assigned to wherever on the bed there is open space. Usually that involves shifting the current piles a bit to create space. I’m not sure there’s really any semblance of order any more. This past month has brought a barrage of requests for sewing help. I do like to help others, but my hobby has become more of a ministry to the sewing challenged lately. I’m looking forward to going upstairs in a bit and working on one of those projects today. It’s Saturday. My husband is out of the house playing disc golf till at least the middle of the afternoon, and it’s just me and the dogs.
I’m not going to even pretend to tell myself that I’ll make a dent in the semi-ordered chaos of my sewing room. I’m just going to try to have fun. Don’t tell anybody. I don’t want word to get out that I’m going to do something for and by myself for a little while.