b ~ The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase, And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

sew (Small)

One of my favorite parts of Schoemperlen’s In the Language of Love,
was the fact that the family cookbooks lived in a drawer under
Joanna’s bed. No one thought it weird or strange, it was just accepted
as it was. In our house the cookbooks actually have their own
bookcase, which moans and groans under their weight. We have ones for
baking and grilling; specialized ones for nuts, pizza, sandwiches and
ice cream. Our family motto often seems to be: “There’s always room
for one more!” I find it hard to resist buying them. The space under
our beds is totally devoted to boxes filled with giftwrap, several
small tubs filled with M’s hats, and many pairs of shoes. (Somehow the
ones I want to wear are always located in a very hard-to-reach spot.
I’m just lucky that way.)

If my life were a novel, I have often thought someone might find it
strange that our sewing machine is located in the kitchen, on a piano
bench under a window. There it sits, lonely and forlorn, waiting to be
put to good use. There is a method to my so-called madness: I put it
there as a reminder, for someday I want to learn how to sew. I imagine
myself with patterns and fabric, sharp scissors and colorful thread.
As a knitter, I feel a kinship to textiles and fiber arts. My inner
voice says it can’t be that hard.

Finding the time to add one more thing in my life is actually the hardest part.

But the new year is coming. Perhaps I will find the time to nurture
myself. To exercise, write, drink more water, take on a new hobby.
Maybe spending a snowy afternoon cutting out pieces of fabric for an
apron. Use my rainbow-hued pins to temporarily assemble the pieces
together before I zip-zip-zip them through the machine.

I know I’ve at least got to try. The sewing books are on the lower
shelf of the piano bench and each time I sit down to dinner, I can
feel them watching me. They are biding their time, planning ways to
accidentally fall off the shelf and give me new project ideas. I think
I owe it to them to make that tree stuffy, a sparkly fleece jacket and
that really cute skirt. Maybe I’ll just have to put Time on my
Christmas list this year–right at the very top, so it looks like I
want that the most. What a gift that would be.

About andi

Writer, editor, wrangler of small boys and dogs.

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