Nine months after our move, and I’m still not settled. We moved into my mother’s house WHICH WAS NOT EMPTY. There are still four rooms that are choked with our stuff waiting to be processed…either thrown out, given away, or put to use. I don’t think we can get away without storing a few things, but the amount of things we have, and this includes my mother’s stuff, is ridiculous. In all fairness to her, it was my father who was the accumulator. When they were working on the blue prints for the house many years ago, he focused on storage areas like closets, areas for shelves and lofts, and easy attic access…3 of them! Well, Dad’s been gone for nine years, and it’s time to clean out. This is a daunting task for one person – my mother. Se we’re here to help. She’s on board, thank goodness.
I’m a doer; a task oriented mover. So little by little, all things will get done. I actually emptied three boxes in the garage last week. But this whole “matter” thing is getting in my way. It’s holding me back from doing the things that are calling me. As I clean out, I find that there are more things I want to explore, like sewing again. I unearthed my mother’s sewing area last week and found patterns for things I’d like to attempt to make. I used to sew when I was a kid. I made a really cute top in Home Economics in 8th grade. I have no idea what happened to it, but I remember the satisfaction of creating something myself, and wearing it. If I could find the pattern, which may still be lurking around here, I could make another one, only 3-4 times bigger now. Or maybe I could make a vest. Looks like I have patterns.
I bought a sewing machine many years ago. It looks brand new, and it really is. I think I used it twice, and both times it jammed up on me. I’ve convinced myself that sewing machines and I just don’t mesh, and that the universe is trying to tell me something. So I’ve listened because it has caused such frustration, but time and space has pushed me to consider trying again.
My mother and grandmother were superb sewers. My Grandmother was a professional seamstress, and worked for a Shirt Factory in Glens Falls, NY. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t make, and her and my mother teamed up during our childhood years and made us PJ’s, winter coats, skirts, vests, head bands, etc. So, sewing isn’t foreign to me, it’s my machine that’s from another galaxy.
I found the old material that my mother made our winter coats from in the attic. I don’t know where the coats are, but I’m thinking that I could make a cape…that should be easy, right? I have a pattern for that too.
I also found the skirt my grandmother made for me when I was nine years old. I love that maxi skirt – and the head band and choker that matched.
And, I found a costume my mother made for my brother when he was 12. He was in an important play in Junior high and needed a costume.
A year and half ago, I met a nice young 19 year old guy. He told me that his mother owned a sewing shop about 10 miles from where I live. I have her name and number, and I have actually passed her shop a few times while working. My next step is to stop in with my possessed machine and have her assess if it’s me or the machine, or both. If it’s me, I’m willing to change. If it’s not me, I will assume there’s hope for repair for my lightly used machine.