I really did. Less than forty-eight hours after screwing up the button holes on my latest sweater, I fixed them, which is probably only because I had the math already done, and I was listening to the radio. I feel like I can do anything while listening to the radio, because my hands are free, it’s a little worrisome.
I think that it is the curse of cardigan lovers to have to fool with some paltry subject like button holes. They are nothing besides a pain in the ass, and I can count up the number of times I’ve actually used the on one hand. I wanted a sweater to be open in the front, that’s why I made a cardigan. But, if I don’t do them, I feel like I’m wearing an unfinished sweater, which is odd, because I haven’t got the slightest problem with wearing a sweater that doesn’t have buttons, as long as it has the holes for them.
I would have done a zipper, but then that would mean that I would have to sew one of those things in, which is not happening again on about ten and a half different levels. I either have to hand sew it or drag out THE MACHINE. I would hand sew myself into my shroud before I would use THE MACHINE. Suffice to say, that I may have one or two issues with THE MACHINE. They are as follows.
1. I always feel like I’m about ready to lose a finger, or at least a fingernail. I understand, on a mental level that these things are perfectly safe, but I really can’t get that on a mental level.
2. I always manage, somehow, to thread THE MACHINE wrong. If the thread is right, then the bobbin is wrong, if both of those are right, I forgot to do that weird thing where you pull the bobbin thread up through the little slot. (Do you know what I mean.) If I remember to do that step, then there surely isn’t enough thread on the bobbin. If the bobbin has plenty of thread, then the stitch width is probably wrong.
3. I never know the correct way to sew in a zipper. No matter what I do, I can’t do it right. I think that everybody has their own way of doing it, and I probably will never be able to find mine out. I’ll live with it somehow.
See, that’s just the top of the list, what I think will be the most entertaining. I wouldn’t tell you something if I didn’t think it was entertaining. Okay, maybe I would, but I would be brief about it. My relationship with THE MACHINE is very entertaining. I salute all of you who are brave enough to do battle with your MACHINES on a regular basis. This is why I always crochet my steeks, and why I always hand sew everything; it’s not because I think it’s worth my time, but because I’m afraid of THE MACHINE.
Where was I? Right, sweater.
There will not be any pictures of it, simply because I need a hair cut, and there is no way that I’m showing you pictures of me with the hair of a cocaine addicted hipster. I am known around these here parts for my wildly and recklessly curly hair, which I loathe with the passion of a martyr. When it’s sort, it is nice, I can keep it clean easy, I don’t have to worry about trying to suppress it with seven different kinds of product, which would only work for about an hour. But right now, I go around looking like I was just frightened in the middle of a wind storm. I don’t think you want to see any of that. (Not showing our pictures because we’re ashamed of our appearances seems to be a little common recently, hmmmm?) (You know who you are.) (I hope.)