I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again

I thought creatively mending this sample pajama top, which was as long as a dress, would be a snap. Okay, that's a lie. I knew it would be very tough.

The mending involved these two holes cut out of it near the hem, probably as sample swatches for the designer. I found a coordinating piece of fabric among my elastane (spandex) scraps, pinned it to the inside of the garment and stitched it in place.

Did I mention that the pajama top is mostly elastane, too? Two stretchy fabrics should have been easy to stitched together, but they weren't. They stretched as I worked them through the machine. The thread I was using didn't stretch. The result was this puckery disaster.

In hindsight I probably should have run with my other idea to applique fabric over the holes, but the damage was done. I also wasn't inclined to unpick all my stitching and start over, as the thin fabric likely would have disintegrated along the edges. With much regret I trimmed off the bottom of the garment along with the offending puckery mess, and hemmed it.

The finished garment. It looks fine, and it taught me a lesson, so in the end I'll call this a fail and a win.

Comments

Stuff

After finding this Caron one pound skein of lovely peach yarn in my thrifted lot I raided my stash for two cakes of Mandala in Pegasus, which matches it perfectly. For practice and hand therapy I'm going to make another Worth Street Afghan with this free pattern , but this time I'll use the yarn that was recommended for it plus the one pound skein. I'm not quite ready to do the vintage/recycled linen quilt I had planned (still a bit too nervous about the idea), so I'm going to use some color therapy and make a quilt from these thrifted green fat quarters. I considered doing another Yellow Brick road patchwork pattern, but I might go with a split rail fence like this one.

Journal Find

This is a page from my 2010 poetry journal. My handwriting isn't the best, so I'll transcribe it: If my heart survives to tell all the secrets kept inside it will be an abalone shell in which the beauty did reside. But I think I will always be lost to the tides that rage in me . . . humbling and polishing . . . I don't write many self-portrait poems, but this one isn't too embarrassing. A bit overly dramatic, but the girl I was eleven years ago went through some tough times. I'm in a much more peaceful place today.

The Numbers

Back in March my diabetes doctor changed my medication and encouraged me to alter my diet and exercise more in order to bring down my A1C, which at the time tested out at a dismal 8.3 (normal is 5.8.) So for the next two months I dealt with the increased meds, stuck to my decidedly grim diet and added a lot more walking to my exercise regime. P.S., it's never fun to be a diabetic, but over the last couple of months I've really tried to keep a good attitude about it. Attitude isn't everything, but it helps a lot when you have to make significant changes while battling a disease like this. Yesterday I performed a home A1C test, and I'm currently at 6.5. That's pretty amazing results, even for me. If I can get it down another half point before I see the doctor in July I'd be over the moon, but I feel like I've already done great. Image credit: Image by Daniele Liberatori from Pixabay

Rayen

Search This Blog