STM sewing

Tuesday 20 May 2008

While getting ready to sew down-arrowed pockets on the other back, I found down arrows on the legs exactly where I had looked for them. Must have been sleepier than I thought Sunday night.

Wednesday 21 May 2008

Ran out of bobbin thread while stitching the first of the above- mentioned pockets; found long piece of thread wrapped around the ball; used Necchi while standing up (chair was at other machine) to wind the long piece onto a bobbin for hand sewing, filled White bobbin, remembered where the long piece came from, wound a millimeter or three of layers back onto the ball before cutting thread. Finished first pocket, closed machine. (I must leave it closed when not in use, or the cat will sleep on the leaf. But it's much easier to put away than modern machines; I can't see why nobody has copied the design. Perhaps because machine heads aren't standard, and the cabinet has to fit the head. It would be very expensive to tool up for a small run of a precision instrument.)

The Necchi bobbins are rated for forty yards, and will take an entire hundred-yard spool of size A sewing silk with room left over. The White bobbins are little more than half as thick, and though they look much wider, if you hold the bobbins together, the difference in diameter is hardly significant -- particularly when you take into account that the White bobbins can't be wound as full as the Necchi bobbins.

And I suspect that I don't wind onto the White bobbins as tightly. The Family Rotary manual I downloaded is for a different model; though I know which spool pin is for winding bobbins, there is no tension device at its base, and I haven't figured it out on my own, so I feed thread by hand. I have to hold the ball in my hand when I'm winding crochet cotton anyway.

I never thought all this through before I was taken aback at having run out of thread.

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I have learned, belatedly, that my wooden drying rack is good for holding tape while I wind it onto a card.

Scoured out the pot this morning; the deal is that I dirty them and he washes them, but it didn't seem fair to give him a tape-boiling pot. But I put it back into the sink to be washed again.

Spelling checker keeps wanting to change "Necchi" to "Gnocchi". I'm getting hungry, and I don't even know what gnocchi are!

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Left-over rice with left-over spanish hamburger and some sharp cheddar and shoyu made a nice lunch.

Finally got going -- I'm like a sewing machine with the crank stuck on dead center: reluctant to work, but once you give me a little push I go just fine.

Speaking of which, I can start the treadle from a dead stop just with my feet, without pushing the handwheel -- a trick I never leaned on the electric. Except when I've stopped it with the crank on dead center, which happens a bit more often than one would expect; I suspect that there is a tad more resistance at that point.

I sewed on the pocket I pinned yesterday, and started sewing the down-arrow fronts to the down-arrow backs. (For those who came in late, I'm making two pairs of pants, with the parts marked with arrows drawn with a washout marker.)

All Right!!! I'm assembling pants! Won't be long before I make the waistbands, then spend a year or two getting around to sewing on the hooks and eyes. Literally -- it was more than a year after I made my herringbone pants before I finished the second pair. But then I didn't really *need* them before then. That second pair is no longer fresh, and when the first pair descends to gardening status, which is going to happen Real Soon Now, the wear on the second pair will accelerate, so I'll get the hemp pants finished a bit sooner -- both pairs, since they are white and will spend more time in the laundry room than the indigo herringbone.

Incidentally, the herringbone twill lacks all the faults I've seen attributed to twill on this list of late; it *doesn't* snag, and has been much more durable than a plain weave of the same weight would have been. The secret, I think, is that it is very tightly woven; the threads are visibly finer than would be used to make a plain-woven fabric of the same weight. Also the twill seems to be two-over-two, and it's the same on both sides. Since there doesn't seem to be anywhere to buy more, I'm glad that I got enough to make six pairs and have, so far, made only four.

I was as surprised by the recent thread on twill being delicate as I was when a spot-remover commercial showed a girl being upset at having spilled mustard on her jeans. The indigo denim that used to be standard for dirty-work clothing is a twill. ("Work denim" is no longer sold, and bull denim is coarser and not as durable.)

Sewed the first seam, turned it over and sewed the first row of topstitching. The first thing one learns when sewing is "the iron is in constant use." The second is "Well, maybe not that constant." After years of learning that seams press to the side easier if you press them open first, I learned that mock-felled seams look better if you don't press the allowances to the side at all, but sew them down. Takes a little more skill at the sewing machine than sewing pre-pressed seams, though.

Moment of thought: yes, even though this fabric doesn't appear to fray any worse than cotton, the mock-fell seams get three rows of topstitching same as if it were linen. After making the second row, I had a bright idea and brushed the allowances with a whisk broom, then trimmed and pulled off the ravels before stitching the third row. This will save a lot of raveling later on.

In the course of that I learned to *really* appreciate working right next to the bath mat I put inside the glass door to wipe my feet on. It's a lot easier to hit than a wastebasket, and hangs on to snippets and ravels until I take it outside and shake it.

For joining the other leg, I had an even brighter idea, and frayed out the edges after joining the seam, but before any top-stitching.

Then I very carefully turned the allowances the wrong way -- *and* stitched from the ankle up, so that I'd done most of it before getting to the pocket that just won't turn that way.

Suddenly, the way the stitches sink into the right side of this fabric is much less gratifying.

But they stay on the surface on the wrong side, so I could make the "break an inch off this side, break an inch off the other side" method work by using a corsage pin to pick out two or three wrong-side stitches whenever I couldn't get hold of the right-side thread. This made a loose place on the right side that I *could* get hold of.

Then lunch, and now it's nap time.

Joy Beeson

At long last I've been able to get to work on the tote bags. The natural canvas ones are done. LLBean knock offs. ;-) The black denim are halfway done. Top edge hems are done, the straps are placed I just have to sew them. Then the side seams. However, when I was finishing up the last of the canvas ones it seemed like the serger knives would not cut the fabric. I had to turn off the cutter and cut the edge manually. I'm just hoping I can get the rest done without having to resort to taking the machine to get repaired.

Has anyone changed their knives on a Brother machine? Do they give good instructions or must I take it to a dealer?

AK in PA

My Brother 1034D came with a spare set of blades and instructions for changing them in the manual. As it's less than a year old and has had fairly light use, I hent had to change them yet.

You might find that even with new blades it won't like several layers of denim all in a wodge...

Slower Than Molasses: Part whatever.

Evening of Wednesday, 21 May 2008

Al E. Cat has learned that when I open the sewing machine, he's going to have to get off the sewing chair.

It's really, really nice to have both hands free to manage the fabric when you are stitching a crease that has been firmly folded the wrong way!

When the light faded and it was time to feed the cat, the two pairs of jeans were in four pieces, plus four waistbands that haven't been cut out yet. Next step is to sew the inseams. I may have to go back to the Necchi for the top-stitching; I'm not at all sure I know how to do that part without a free arm.

It would be nice to have the jeans finished in time for Sunday's barbecue, but I'm going to have to go to two different stores -- in opposite directions -- to buy ingredients for the potato salad. And I've promised deviled eggs, too. Not to mention that Saturday morning is reserved for a bike ride.

Joy Beeson

Thursday, 22 May 2008

Well, at least I got the inseams pinned.

The bra I'm wearing has a hole in it, and may make it through the next wash, but surely not the one after that. And this is the second of three that were made about the same time, not to mention that I didn't have enough to get through a week of the hot weather due to arrive any minute now before the first one wore out.

White linen, I think, but I still haven't decided whether the "handkerchief" linen or the "irish" linen is finer. Ooo, I've got two yards of black handkerchief linen that really is almost hanky weight. Better choose white for wear under summer clothes, though. I can make up the black if I ever get around to making a fall suit out of the black-and-red print cotton-linen blend.

I have decided not to put jicama into the salad, so I don't have to go to Marsh. But I'm likely to run out of celery before Saturday evening. And I'll be pointed toward Marsh when I ride to the Farmer's Market Saturday morning.

Time to put some celery seed into vinegar.

Friday 22 May 2008

Al didn't know that when I carry a pants part into the bedroom, I can't be persuaded not to sit on the sewing chair. I suspect that he does now, though; he's a fast learner. (*Too* fast, sometimes. You can only fool him once.)

Now the *spool* has run out of thread. Not in the middle of a seam, however, as I can see it coming. But winding the spool took my last ball of white thread; pity I didn't choose ecru, as I have a spool plus a ball and a half of that left.

I wonder whether there's still a place left where I can mail a check to pay for six balls of thread; obtaining one-shot credit-card numbers is getting to be a pain. I thought single-vendor numbers were available, but I can't find it on the credit card's Web site. Wouldn't help this time anyway, as I buy cotton thread every other year, and don't want much else from a lacemaker's-supply house.

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When I mock-fell a tube on the free arm, I turn it right side out, and gather it up on the free arm narrow end first, so that I'm working with the widest opening when it's most congested. After much thought, I decided that the way to do it on a flat bed is to turn it wrong side out, gather it up on the head wide end first, and reach through the wider opening to control the fabric.

But I didn't get very far into implementing this plan before I decided that even though it's nice to have all the top stitching measured by the same presser foot, inseams don't show, and my top-stitching is wonky at best anyway.

And, for that matter, there's nothing actually *sinful* about pre-pressing! Pressing will also make it easier to make sure the inseam allowances are stitched one to the back and one to the front, so that they don't lie on top of each other: if I put the ankle end of all four legs at the same end of the ironing board, and press all four seams in the same direction, matching pairs of legs will have the allowances pointing opposite ways.

But I had frittered around until well after ten before starting to sew, so this point came at lunch time and, having eaten a chicken leg and a chunk of left-over sweet potato (with real butter), I'm ready for a nap.

Right after I check my mail.

Saturday, 24 May 2008

On the other hand, stitching all in the same direction will also achieve the desired alternation.

Got celery, more white potatoes, sweet potatoes, jicama, Marsh's last bar of dark chocolate, and a shriveled-up horseradish root, but I forgot to buy a gallon of milk. Oh, well, we aren't eating here tomorrow, so the remainder of the previous gallon should hold through breakfast Monday.

I filled three half-gallon containers with potato salad, then deviled a dozen horseradish eggs -- even though I'd soaked the horseradish for hours, it was loppy to grate. On the other hand, it didn't give off fumes, as I'd been assured fresh horseradish would. One of Mom's stories of her youth was about the little boy who got hold of a WWI gas mask, and delighted in grating everyone's horseradish.

No sewing today or tomorrow.

Joy Beeson

23 May 2008 : A Digression

Aaaaaand we have a clear winner! Carefully considering the corners of the two lengths of white linen, I conclude that the one marked only "Pure linen/March 2004/fabric.com" is marginally softer than the one with a receipt for handkerchief linen pinned to it.

So I draw a thread . . . the basting (from pre-shrinking) has already been removed from one end . . . wonder why I did that? Cutting along the drawn thread usually removes all the basting . . . hey, this fabric has a good selvage.

It's a tuck selvage, to be sure, but so well done that I can't tell which is supposed to be the wrong side, and it's eminently capable of being used as a finished edge. Shame to waste it on something cut on the bias. The difference in softness is almost subliminal, and I

*did* buy that fringe-selvaged handkerchief linen specifically to make bras with, after all.

So after drawing the thread, I laid the handkerchief linen on top of the pure linen and looked at both through the 3.5 reading glasses I'd been using to draw the thread. Threads in the "handkerchief" seem slightly closer together, and the texture is very like that of the houndstooth-print linen I used for the prototypes that are just now wearing out.

So the pure linen goes back onto the hanger and the handkerchief linen awaits a thread-drawing.

Grump. The wind has picked up, and the towels are whipping.

And it's time to hang out the sheets -- and past time to lie down for a nap.

Wednesday, 28 May 2008

I haven't the foggiest idea what I did with Tuesday. Sit around playing computer card games? I made a pot of bean soup, but most of the work for that was done on Monday.

Dispirited by the discovery that the sock I worked on while nattering at Sunday's barbecue is beyond mending, I read "That Hideous Strength" during Handwork Circle instead of darning another pair. When I got tired of reading and said "Nobody will come on Memorial Day Tuesday, I'm going home!", it was time to go home anyway.

But I woke up bright and early today, determined to make some progress

-- and actually got to work about ten. Top-stitched the inseams in the down-arrow jeans, remembering to trim the corners first about half the time. Ran out of bobbin thread, put in the short bobbin I'd wound "for hand sewing" instead of going to my bag for the nearly-full bobbin I'm actually using for hand sewing.

Edge-stitched the first inseam, slid the leg back onto the free arm, stitched with the needle on the right and the edge of the foot on the fold, repeated with the needle on the left. Examined result: first two rows too close together; I should have left the needle in the middle for the second row of top stitching. But I'll stitch the other down-arrow leg to match the first. Got about a foot into the second row of topstitching before realizing that I'd forgotten to move the needle. Oh, well, I can hardly see these stitches, and this way *is* better.

Now, smugly reflecting that the treadle is easier to set up than the electric, go into the bedroom to stitch the center seam. Oops! I forgot that I have only one spool of 100/6 white cotton thread. Steal same from electric machine, sew left leg to right leg, wondering why Web sites say that one must stuff one leg into the other, with one right-side out and one wrong-side out. You just pin them together and sew! Doesn't even matter whether the pants are inside out or right side out. Must be some sort of special circumstance that I didn't notice; must pay more attention the next time I run across a sewing-pants-together website.

&%#! The top layer has slithered forward and the end of the seam is half an inch off. Rip stitches back to the notch, sew again more carefully. Run out of bobbin thread halfway through.

This is particularly annoying because I've nothing but the spool to wind a new bobbin from. I hate winding the same thread twice; it's a waste of time, and it wears the thread. But with the thread on a spool, I got more of a clue as to how one is *supposed* to wind the bobbin. Still ended up guiding the thread by hand, but it's neater with the machine regulating the tension, and my hands might as well have something to do while the feet are treadling.

(For those who came in late: The cotton thread I prefer comes in balls that have to be re-wound for machine sewing, and I recently wound my last ball of white onto a spool.)

Finish sewing seam. It's still not quite even. Snip.

I got two rows of topstitching done before remembering that I'm supposed to fray the edges first. Still possible, though not quite as easy. Held seam over doormat and set to work, planning to use the whisk broom on the cat when I've finished using it on the seam, but the squirrelevision show moved to the other floor-level window before I was finished. (I petted the lint off him later.)

Remaining row of topstitching goes in without adventures: Try on pants. Should have taken pajamas off first.

It will soon be time to cut out waistbands! But before re-threading Necchi to sew up-arrow jeans, write STM Sewing before I forget what happened. Now it's time to eat lunch and take nap. Probably won't wake up until time to cook, and I want to attend a road-bike ride after supper.

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Woke up half an hour before time to cook; despite frittering around, I got five of the six rows of topstitching in. No adventures, and the short bobbin didn't run out.

Maybe I'll run the last row before bedtime, and maybe I won't.

When I got to the starting place for the ride, I saw a bunch of tall skinny males waiting, remembered that the ride was sponsored by a racing club, and kept on going. Circled around to pass home, drop off cleated shoes, and pick up _Agent of the Terran Empire_ to take back to the library. Checked out Stratton-Porter's Laddie from YA alcove. Adult fiction jumps from STO to mid-W, with empty shelves where STR belongs.

Joy Beeson

Thursday, 29 May 2008

It was four of the six rows, not five, but I got both of the remaining rows of topstitching in while waiting for a Web page to load.

Later on, I moved the sewing chair into the bedroom and sewed the two legs together, pausing in the middle to help DH plant six jalapen~o plants he'd bought. (Hmm. In ASCII, one indicates umlauts by putting "e" after the vowel; perhaps one could indicate n-with-a-tilde by writing "ny".) (And could the umlaut convention indicate dieresis, which looks exactly like an umlaut? But we've pretty much settled on a hyphen before the vowel, as in co-operate.)

Paused to remember, while threading the machine, that I've often waxed sarcastic about the "easy threading" slot that replaces a simple hole in the take up lever in many modern machines -- but the White has a slot-loading take-up lever. But it's not an ancestor of the slot in the modern take-up lever.

Reflected, on examining this final seam, that I really ought to turn a garment inside out after making the first row of top-stitching on a mock-felled seam, and brush the frayed edges again to make sure they lie properly under the subsequent stitching.

But I use mock-fell seams only on jeans, and it may be two years before I make more. I'm not likely to remember.

No progress on the bras, but I think I've worked out how to mark a true-bias line on sixty-inch fabric.

Haven't even selected a vendor for replenishing my supply of white cotton sewing thread.

Sometime yesterday, I noticed that the crocheted tether on my "straight operating scissors" was beyond hope, and cut off a piece of black quarter-inch twill tape to make a new one.

30 May 2008

Sewed it together this morning. Since I planned to use the overlapped area to make the larks-head knot that holds the tether to the scissors, quick and dirty would do fine -- but such a small job isn't worth threading up the machine, and while basting happens when hand sewing, quick-and-dirty doesn't. Not in my hands, anyway.

I like the tape better than the crocheted cord -- it makes a neater knot, and looks rather like a necktie. It also stays put, and doesn't slither around to get between the handles.

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I've got a good excuse to postpone thinking again!

Now you might not think there is any thinking to cutting a waistband: you have a straight strip of fabric, you have the thinking pre-done on a strip of paper, copy the notches from the paper to the fabric, done! And for the back waistband, you'd be right. But I folded out a somewhat random amount of the front to make slanted pocket openings, so I have to measure that and decide how much to shorten the front waistband to compensate. And then copy this measurement onto the back band to show where the center eye of the outer set will be. (Each closing is two hooks and ten eyes, five eyes for each hook.)

I'd been thinking that, because the band is to be made of light canvas, I would cut the band twice the finished width and cover the raw edges with twill tape. But when it came time to cut, I chickened out and marked the usual three inches. (How this comes out 7/8" wide, I don't know, and the structure is all sewn inside. Perhaps I can deconstruct the band of the pair that recently dropped to patch-donor status.)

Then I found that it's impossible to draw a thread in this canvas, as if I hadn't washed out all the sizing. Which reminded me that a professional shirt maker had commented, on Yahoo's "Creative Machine" mailing list, that she always washed and machine-dried hemp shirting three times to prevent shrinking. It's unlikely that I have washed this canvas more than once, and I'm sure that I never machine dried it

-- it lacks the un-removable wrinkles that heavy fabric acquires in a dryer.

So I'm cooking fabric again. I was gratified that the canvas absorbed water and sank instantly, which re-assured me that it really is hemp, and that hemp will be as good as linen for pants. (Not necessarily the rather fluffy twill I've made the jeans of, however.) And the spectacular ruffles that tearing with much might and main had left on one edge shrank back to shape even before the water got hot.

Surprising amount of color in the water, considering that the fabric is undyed.

I hope I can have these jeans to wear to Girls Night Out a couple of weeks from now. Aunt Pauline could make a pair of shorts faster than she could wash one. I doubt that she put eight pockets in each pair, though.

After putting the waistband on the stove, I spotted the handkerchief linen and thought that here was something mindless and useful to do -- but I had already drawn a thread across one end. So I drew the other end too. I'm planning to mark true-bias lines on all four yards, and it will be easier to work from both ends toward the middle.

A bias line across sixty-inch fabric will be pushing ninety inches -- well over two meters. I wonder whether DH has a chalk line out in the barn. Nope. But it would be better to start with a clean piece of string and use fabric-store powdered chalk anyway.

Neva fear: This series of posts is over when the jeans are hemmed.

DH has a slide show of astronomical photographs as his screen saver; quite often I see one that I'd like to see printed on dress goods.

Perhaps I'll iron the strip of canvas dry and cut it into waistbands after my nap.

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While ironing the waistband, I remembered that I'd put the patterns on the fabric to be sure the strip I was about to tear off was long enough -- but only *once*. Tore off another strip, boiled it while preparing supper, spun it in the washer after we got back from our walk, laid it on the ironing board on top of the first one. It's nearly dry now, and will be ready to cut in the morning. But if the rain stops, I'm going riding.

Joy Beeson

Sunday, 8 June 2008

Last Thursday, I marked and cut one set of two waistbands. (Left and right are a pair, but I feel that front and back constitute a set.)

Even though I'd written "up" on each band, I felt that I'd better pin them to the up-arrow jeans while measuring, marking, and cutting the set for the down-arrow jeans -- the "nap" of the fabric wouldn't matter even if I had cut the waistbands from the same piece as the rest, but I have learned the hard way that one should never blindly assume that two identical things actually are identical.

Then I thought, why not *sew* them to the jeans instead of pinning?

But it was time for my nap.

Friday morning I woke determined not to fritter around with the computer, but to get right to work after breakfast. But I like to read my e-mail while eating breakfast . . .

I did get to work by ten. Held the band against the jeans, learned that both front and back are going to need easing threads. Well, gathering threads in the front -- only loose-woven wool can ease in an entire dart of shaping. The pockets will probably gather too, but they will be under the front and won't show.

Set up the Necchi for gather-stitching, to leave the White set up for seaming. (And I can leave sewing the easing threads on the down-arrow jeans for later without having to re-rethread.)

Discovered that sometime during the seized-clutch episode -- I

*finally* did get around to taking the Necchi in for a cleaning and adjusting, which is what made me discover the treadle.

Sometime while my bobbin winder wasn't working, I had used up the double-wound basting bobbin. I had wound a few bobbins with the hand drill (which does a lousy job on such small spools) but I draw the line at winding a double thread that way.

So I put two spools of SubSilk on the machine and wound a new gathering-thread bobbin. One of the spools ran out when the bobbin was about half wound -- which didn't catch me off guard -- I'd chosen that spool hoping to use the last of it. I may yet live long enough to buy basting thread on purpose!

I carefully stored the empty spool, because over in Pierceton the antique shops are selling wooden spools for more than I paid for these spools when they had eight hundred yards of 5/3 cotton on them. Not that I would attempt to sell them, since I have my own uses for old wooden spools. I have vastly more than needed, but wooden spools are getting harder to find, and I'm planning to live two or three decades longer.

This band set was made from a strip which was torn on one edge, and I'd cut an unusable selvage off the other. (I still can't draw threads in this canvas, but a contrast thread marked the boundary between selvage and fabric.) I decided to use the cut edge inside the fold at the top of the band, which meant stitching one inch from the cut edge, which meant putting the raw edge of the jeans half an inch from the cut edge of the band.

Draw a stitching line on the wrong side one inch from the cut edge -- no, I haven't allowed for the turn of the cloth. A tad less than one inch. Hard to mark consistently with a ruler. Check the collection of cards in the drawer of the Necchi stand. None of the pre-drawn lines are a tad less than an inch, grab self-removing marker and draw a new guide line. Mark stitching line with wash-out marker.

Turn over, mark a row of dashes for placing the raw edge -- one of the cards already has a half-inch guide line.

(All right, class: What mistake have I just made?)

Pin the front of the jeans to the band. Grump. I have absent- mindedly put the bobbin thread on the right side of the cloth, which will be against the right side of the band when I sew. Perhaps I was thinking of the method that begins by sewing the right side of the band to the wrong side of the garment, and ends by turning the band to the right side and top-stitching.

Never mind; there isn't a lot of easing to do; just gather it up shorter than needed, distribute the gathers evenly, then pin: such little adjustment as is still needed can be done from the needle side, and I don't even need to secure the ends of the gathering thread, because of the high friction of cotton-on-hemp.

Stitch along the line drawn on the wrong side of the band, remove the gathering threads, fold the band to make sure the folded-under edge of the band will cover the raw edge of the jeans.

It just barely reaches -- not at all secure. I've sewn the seam just a tad less than half an inch wide -- not enough to affect the hang of the jeans, but enough to mess up the band.

I picked out the stitches, planning to re-gather (with the bobbin thread on the *wrong* side!), then re-stitch with an allowance of just a tad more than half an inch.

But then it was nap time. Saturday was for riding in the morning and partying in the evening and napping in the afternoon.

And now it's naptime on Sunday.

This morning, I wore a white dress for the first time this summer. When putting on my old muslin drawers, I reflected that I'd really like linen drawers. The topic came up last summer, too, and I decided that I could take the elastic out of the legs of my old linen cycling knickers and use those as drawers. The muslin drawers, after all, were a beta for those very knickers -- and it was wise of me to make a beta, because the muslin drawers are four inches too short to fasten below a bent knee. (Maybe that's why golf knickers are sometimes called "plus fours".)

But while dressing, I felt that even though the dress is underlined, I wouldn't want to wear black drawers with it even if I had gotten around to patching the seat of the knickers. So "make drawers" is back on the to-do list -- well down from "make bras" and "make briefs". And after "make fall suit out of printed cotton-linen blend"; I don't wear a summer dress more often than I wash clothes, after all, and muslin drawers do work.

I have learned that Van Sciver Bobbin Lace sells DMC Cordonette and has a snail address, so I've printed out an order form -- after copying it into Open Office so I could remove enough New York State only lines to make it fit on one sheet -- so I can print a check as soon as I've checked the Web site to see whether they have anything else I want.

Thursday, 12 June 2008

Hokay, today's the day I really do get back to work on the pants. Might even print a check and mail the order for thread and tatting shuttles. After I clean the cat box, which I should have done yesterday. And check my e-mail, of course. Hey, the fabric.com deal of the day is for a fabric that I'll sooner or later use! Be nice to stash ten yards of cotton-linen blend, but I won't buy today -- I already have four rolled fabrics in my stash, and two of them are cotton-and-linen blends. But they've got black! And it says that it's suitable for lightweight pants! And I can't get more than one season of wear out of my black cycling knickers. The blend will muss less than either fiber alone, wear better than pure cottonized linen, and be almost as cool.

And they've got white -- you always need a plain white fabric for this or that. Kinder rough in texture, though. Cain't see on the black, but rough would be all to the good in pants.

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Well, that makes up my mind -- somebody else bought the black fabric. There are ninety-three yards of the white left.

Fading natural light is a good excuse to quit when you are doing handwork, but I decided to turn on the lamp and machine-stitch hems in the up-arrow pants, so this is officially my last Slower Than Molasses post.

Discovered, while trying them on to check the hems before stitching, that I'm definitely going to get all four hooks and all twenty eyes installed by Monday -- there isn't a way in the world I could close a canvas waistband with safety pins! Aside from the stiffness, I'd probably curl the point of the pin trying.

Did bend two or three needles doing the handwork. A few inches of place where the topstitching didn't catch, and aforementioned hooks and eyes, are all that remains to be done, and I've hung them in the closet.

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Backing up to the morning: after attaching the waistbands to the front and back, the efficient next step would be to mark, cut, and attach the bands for the other pair --- but I really, really want these pants to wear Monday, so I heated up the iron instead.

This may condemn the down-arrow pants to go without waistbands until the first pair gets shabby, but I'm hoping to get at them while I still remember that I want to make the bands only a little wider than the seam allowance (so as to be more uniform inside), and to finish by turning it to the outside, curling down a torn edge in the process by way of padding the top fold.

Which means that I'll need to sew the gathering threads on purpose the way I sewed them by mistake for the first pair.

Oh, yes, I need to re-thread the Necchi, because I mean to zig-zag the ends of the back band. Less lumpy when you don't turn in the ends, and it doesn't show. So I should sew the gathering threads for the down-arrow pants before doing that.

I was gratified that the puckers from easing pressed out, and I hadn't sewn in a single pleat. Considering how hard it is to stick a needle into this stuff, it was even more gratifying that it folded over far enough to be caught in machine top-stitching from the right side. Well, *most* of it caught in the machine top-stitching.

This is very mysterious, as the changes I made should have resulted in the exact same waistband with the pants shoved further into it. But I'm glad not to have to hem down canvas by hand.

I creased only the seam and the turn-under, as the top fold was too fiddley to do with a hot iron.

Then hand-miter the ends of the front waistband, hand-sew the ends (I want only the one horizontal line of top-stitching), and hand-baste the top fold, keeping the cut edge exactly in the crease. After some thought, I also hand-basted where I meant to top stitch.

And I was very glad to be doing that top-stitching with the treadle: four layers of canvas and, at the seams, as many layers of Russia drill meant turning the hand wheel most of the way. Not only is the larger handwheel a better handle, it has an intermediate mode: I can stick a finger into the spokes and twirl the wheel faster than pushing the rim, but with more control than a machine under power -- even when it's human power.

I suspect that both these features are a side effect of designing a bigger flywheel with the weight concentrated at the rim -- but a hand-crank on display at Lowery's works by sticking a steel finger into the spokes.

Anyhow, "twirl, thunk, shove" is much easier than "shove, shove, shove hard, shove".

And then: Heavens to Murgatroyd, these are *pants*.

After I work twenty buttonholed bar tacks. I don't think I've used the heavy-duty white nylon before. Probably works up the same as the black. (Famous last words!)

And Monday, I'm off to Connersville with two of my sisters. (Which suitcase should I pack? And, egad, I don't have a medium-sized purse; only small and huge.)

Friday, 13 June 2008

Which date reminds me of Albert Alligator. (I imagine that an explanation of that remark is filed under "Pogo" in Wikipedia.)

I think I forgot to mention that one thing I learned yesterday is that I can work the treadle with my shoes on -- having sewn a couple of seams after forgetting to take my sandals off. Convenient, that, as I've developed a habit of letting my left heel hang over the ridge meant to keep your feet from slipping.

Lousy weather today, but bright enough to do hand work by the patio door, and at the moment, it's possible to work outside -- and we've finally brought down the patio chairs.

Proofreading this reminded me to add up my order blank -- I've ordered some spare teaching shuttles (cheap shuttles to give away in case I run into someone who wants to learn how to tat) -- and queue a check. Told DH printing could wait until he pays the bills.

I used my father's trick of adding the most-significant digits first; it's somehow easier to add in your head when you work from left to right.

And when she starts to blither, it's time to shut up and click "send". Except the little green light has gone out, so I'll have to re-set the computer first. Wish I were geeky enough to use something other than Windoze. I may not be computer-minded, but I do have a track record of being able to learn to do better than my first clumsy efforts -- if the program isn't devoted to working as well as it ever will for "any yahoo off the street."

Joy Beeson

Joy, what do you use yours for? I have a modest collection myself - a small biscuit tin full - because I knew I shouldn't throw them away but don't know what to do with them. Oh yes, when the children were tiny I had all the thoughts of making them a "bobbin necklace" to chew on, but never got round to it, and now the grandchildren all have all their teeth! Not that their parents would have allowed them to chew on anything as unsanitary as old, wooden thread bobbins, nowadays they all have to have nice, clean plastic (hehhehhehheh).

Olwyn Mary in New Orleans.

** Posted from **

Yeah ...

How did we manage to live so long, chewing on unhygienic keys - and worse!?

Mary

I wind stuff on them. I just went through my tape box and moved all the tapes on spools onto cards, though, so I'm using only two at the moment: one for white 100/6 cotton thread, and one for ecru 100/6 cotton thread.

I think there's a spool with four finishing nails in it around here someplace, too. I used to have a hair tie that had been knitted on one, anyway. Easier to make I-cord than spool cord, but if one has a grandchild to keep out of one's hair . . .

Joy Beeson

Here that's called 'dolly peg' or 'French knitting' but there's a more modern word I don't know.

It doesn't produce a cord, rather a tube of circular knitting. Keeps children occupied for hours!

Mary