Home-made clothes and root beer

(I was rereading some old drafts for posts never published.  Found this one, dusted it off, and added some pictures and updates.)

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I am reminded again why I don't sew much anymore.  I used to sew everything.

My sewing history goes back to about age 12 or 13 when I learned from a patient combination of my aunt, home-ec teachers, 4-H teacher, and grandmother who gave me a used machine.  I have always loved clothes and for many years, this was my only way of having any.  I remember gleaning fabric from a couple of old wool skirts found in a trunk in our basement, to sew some culottes, which were popular back then, so that I'd have something new to wear to high school.  If I didn't sew it, I didn't have it.  I made pep-club uniforms, boy scout shirts, costumes, and even a swim suit which proved to be a mistake.  I've sewn for hire and for favors.  I've made countless window coverings of almost every type, quilts, cushions, and have even re-upholstered a boat.

(Husband says I need more pictures in my posts, so here you go.)

I sewed my prom dress, my simple wedding dress, and even my mother-in-law's Mother-of-the-Groom dress.

Us, many years ago, sandwiched between the folks.

Mother-In-Law, in her sage green dress, is standing next to the groom

 who was still in his short-lived post-mission-extreme-hair phase.

My step mother, next to me in her lovely non-homemade turquoise dress, unknowingly did not comply with my attempted color scheme.  Oh well.  (Thanks, Lins, for cleaning up the old photo.)

When I had children, I sewed everything they wore too.

And of course the Husband sported many home-made shirts.

It was just what one did if one couldn't afford to shop ready-made.

Not anymore.

I recently decided to re-use some fabric from a failed window shade project to make a new duvet cover for our bed.  I pieced together the top of the duvet and then headed out to the distant BIG fabric store to look for the backing.  Good freakin' heavens!  The cost of fabric is ridiculous!  Get this:  It would be cheaper if I bought a new set of king-sized sheets and used that for the bottom piece, than to buy the fabric.  And if I didn't already have the fabric for the top piece, it'd be cheaper to just buy a finished duvet.  How can that be??

How can unused fabric cost more BEFORE it is made into something, than after?  Doesn't labor count?

The sad thing is, if fabric cost what it does now, back when I was a teenager, I would have never learned how to sew.  I couldn't have afforded it!  It is no longer cheap, nor practical, to make one's own clothes and my frugal-to-my-bones nature is aghast.   And if you do take out a second mortgage to invest in some fabric for a project .... once that project is done, you'd better be happy with it because you ain't taking it back.  And need I mention the price of patterns?

Hence, I fear that sewing will become a lost skill.  Like the home-made root beer my dad used to make (not the dry ice variety, but that which you bottled and kept in the basement like wine) ..... no one does it anymore.  Sewing used to be a big part of my life.  Not that I miss it, because, to be honest, I don't.  But I see the value of what it taught me for those many years.

So now I'm looking for sheets of the right color, for the right price, to finish my project.  And I WILL find them because another skill I have honed to near-perfection, is ...... shopping.   And now that I've discovered and embraced RESALE shopping .... my frugal bones are ecstatic.

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Update:  I ended up using an old sheet from my own linen closet, made the duvet, and now it remains stuffed on a shelf in my closet because the darn thing is too heavy to sleep under.  THAT is the problem with home-made ..... no returns.

Hello, my name is ..... and I am addicted .....

to a lot of things ..... such as .....

Carbs.

Good conversation.

My bed.

Fun.

The news.

Cranberries.

My husband.

Oregon.

My flat iron.


And social media.  AKA facebook.  I admit it.  I am one of those people.  I am on it TOO often.  I comment TOO much.  And I've been nursing the illusion that everyone is anxious to hear my next thought.  As if.  Very, very few facebook denizens are THAT witty, clever, funny, or smart that we want a constant stream of their comments crowding onto our news-feeds all day long.  And I am not the exception, as much as I'd like to be.

At least I am not guilty of inflicting my nightly dinner menu upon my patient friends, nor posting those obnoxious sayings, like .... "Share if you love your daughter!"  Let the record show that I love my daughter and my other various and assorted kids.  And my grandkids, sibs, and all extended family.  I'm even fond of my cat .... most of the time.  They know it.  You know it.  That's enough.

My awakening came when I learned that a friend had unfriended me.  That's something that, no matter how gently they intended it, kinda hurts.

Wait ..... I thought.  Me??  But my posts are important!  They have substance!  I do research!  The world needs enlightening, and I am here for it!

On the other hand, I enjoy well thought-out posts from others, and have learned a great deal from my facebook community.  And the humorous updates are priceless.  So who doesn't love a hearty political rant now and then, to nudge that sleeping giant called the Silent Majority?   But then ..... maybe the giant prefers to sleep.

So here's my plan.  I am going on a diet.  A social-media diet.  If I can limit carbs, I can limit posting.  No more than ONE of my in-your-face political rants per week.  Or maybe less.  I'm not talking about commenting on someone else's post .....  and I can see this needs further clarification.

This does not include things like ..... Anyone know of a good Mexican restaurant? ..... Which I do, by the way ..... in case you're looking for one.  Or .... Are movies still $5 on Tuesdays at the Regal?  Or .... There's a great sale on cereal at Freddies.  THAT kind of thing benefits us all and is not what I'm talking about ...... although, I don't buy cereal anymore and am not that into movies.  But you get what I mean.

I am cinching in the belt and counting my social calories, so to speak.  Reining it in.

But watch out.  OCCASIONALLY, that sleeping giant is going to get a solid whack in the shins because I can only hold the steam in so long before bursting.  And the giant is invited to punt-kick back ....  or roll over and finish his nap.  It's all good.

One bit of advice:  Don't follow me on Twitter.  I've figured out how it works and the rants are flying over there.

Me, Houdini, and the Open Road

Do I dare say again how much I LOVE it when Christmas is over?  Clearing out the red and green fluff and clutter is kind of like liberation from a cage of tinsel and toffee.  I only wish I could rid my hips of those extra holiday pounds as easily as I sweep the tree needles out the door.

January is optimistic.  It speaks of open roads with no obstacles between me and the adventures ahead. So what great plans do we have for 2014?

Camping.  As much of it as we can cram into the season.  I happily resumed my pilgrimages to the camping aisle at the local store the other day, hoping to discover any newly invented treasure that might have appeared in my absence, that I really, really need.   We bought a one-year membership to a network of campgrounds throughout Washington and Oregon which is where I hope you'll find us on most weekends, as soon as the weather allows.

We'd love another trip to southern Utah to soak in more of its glorious canyons.  Plus I'm thinking this may be the year we head over to the Palmyra, New York area to connect with our religious roots.

More biking.  I've heard about some new trails to explore.  One is the Tualatin Valley trail, a 30 mile extension of the Banks-Vernonia trail.  Plus we need to conquer the entire Springwater trail (venturing beyond Cartlandia) in Portland.  They're also opening more of the old highway in the Columbia Gorge.   And Husband is STILL ironing out our coast ride.  So, Biking Friends, get ready.  We're doing this!

There's the 2014 Manly Man Hike in September, and I will fight anyone who tries to change the name on my account.  My new challenge is to figure out how to produce delicious dehydrated meals, via my new food drier, to eat in the wilderness.  So far, my strawberry fruit leather alone, although tasty, won't quite do it.

Running?  My foot is still healing and doing remarkably well, as a matter of fact.  The Boot has been replaced by The Shoe .... a clumpish, black, velcro-bound fashion-violation that serves to remind me that I actually did have surgery three weeks ago, and probably shouldn't be stomping my foot at the cat.   So, since I can't complain of pain where there is none, I expect to be running again in a month or two.  Probably two.  And the relay is still in June and I am still on the team.  With Favorite Third Son.  And Favorite Only Daughter.  (**Feeling the giddiness.**  Will I ever out-grow this?  I honestly don't know.)

And since I am married to Houdini, who thrives on planning any type of escape from the Daily Grind, you never know what new adventure will burst upon our humble calendar.  Southwest Airlines kindly granted us Companion Passes for the year, so now the sky ....
along with the roads ....
is open.

Happy New Year!