my little friend.
Whilst sitting down to sew Sunday (why does this sound like a Dr. Seuss book already?) I realized my lil' friend was sick. The handwheel had extreme difficulty turning.
Sew, I turned the machine off and gave her a good cleaning. Didn't help.
Yesterday was the first day I've had to take her to the
doctor sewing machine dealer I bought her from.
We've been together almost a year. She came home with me last April to help me applique and quilt a quilt for my mom to take to chemo treatments. The white, sterile blankets they heated up to help her keep warm just didn't seem good enough for my mom. (my thoughts, not hers-she never complained)
I loosely followed the "Midnight Garden" pattern in
and is the cover quilt for the book.
I used coins instead of HST with the rows of appliqued flowers. I also changed the color scheme from black background to white and the coins and flowers were done in happy, bright Florida colors to remind her of their snowbird home and sunshinier days ahead.
I also spaced teal colored cancer ribbons in the rows of coins and quilted words of encouragement and hope on the ribbons. Love. Courage. Strength. To name a few.
Unfortunately, this was before blogland and I have no pictures.
Well, I'm machineless until next week. I have a Singer that my mother in love bought me as a gift one year, but I've found it too isn't quite healthy and probably needs a checkup.
Sew, yesterday the family room got a thorough cleaning (you know, the one I'm stripping ghastly wall paper from the 70's from--shuddering still), I caught up on my ironing (2 pairs of pants, and about a brazillion shirts for hubby sweets and Javi), stripped three beds and washed the linens and went covert in the boys' room.
I now know why C-man and hubby have no clean socks. A dirty sock pile the size of the Great Pyramid at Giza was behind the bunkbeds. When C-man ran out of his clean socks in the sock drawer, he turned to hubby's. Did you know that apparently dirty socks that are thrown in between the beds and the wall will not magically walk themselves (ala Fantasia) to the hamper?
And when you interrogate them and threaten torture
they will tell you where all the chocolate is hidden (in the side slats), where all the hardback book covers that have gone AWOL are congregating, and where all the waterbottles for night time ops are buried.
What dirty socks won't tell you is why there is a battery, aluminum foil and wires in a pile next to a Webkinz Pug named Puddles.
Or what that icky, squishy, orange gum looking substance is that's attached to the wall. Or why there are footprints on the ceiling?
I'm pretty sure when I'm done with this stage of parenting, I will have seen and cleaned just about everything!
Note to self:
buy paint rollers
check cans of paint to paint the walls in their room
ask C-man if he's ready to learn to paint ceilings
ask C-man if once ceiling is repainted, he can keep his dirty, smelly, icky piggies off the ceiling where they really don't belong
ask Isobel to watch the kids so I can go fabric shopping