Conversation Starter

I was sitting at the hairdresser yesterday afternoon when I received a message from young R: "Could you maybe help me with some sewing repairs?". We were planning a quick catch up and easy tea in the evening. Speaking from experience I sent back, "I'll have a go. Do I need any supplies?" "Yeah, maybe a heavy duty needle . . . it's a hole in a bag." R has just returned from a World Challenge trip to South East Asia. My imagination started to fill in possibilities of what "a hole in a bag" might mean.  I'm always amused and a little bit proud when my friends' children treat me as the "go to" person for fixing things, though sometimes I feel that a magic wand is the required tool rather than any of my textile supplies. I wasn't planning to go home before our catch up. Nor was I sure that I had suitable needles at home. And they're always useful things to have around. Instead of coming home to search my studio, I stopped off at a local fabric store to pick up these:

Either the right needle would be in this aray, or it would be a "magic wand" job. Picking these up resulted in a friendly conversation with a new shop assistant. I came away with requests for information about the various sewing and quilting classes I'm involved with in local Neighbourhood Houses--that's another type of conversation I love.

The repair job turned out to be "doable". The bag was reasonably well made and just one seam had come undone at a wear point. Despite my impressive choice of needles, I ended up repairing the seam in layers. my fingers just don't have the strength of an industrial machine to get through eight thicknesses of bag fabric!

This morning making sure I took the set of needles out of my handbag was a priority. I'm flying interstate in a couple of days. I can just imagine these sharp metal objects showing up at the security screening point. Now there's a conversation I'd rather avoid. 

Craft Date

My friend L and I have been planning to get together to fix this necklace for ages.

Every time I've seen her at work lately I've been aware of the little bag of necklace bits sitting on her desk. The necklace was a gift and it's a favourite of hers. Apologies for not crediting the designer--I have no idea. As for the construction methods--I think it really did wear out from overuse! The lightweight coconut shell buttons and sequins are threaded together with something that looks a lot like fishing line. I ended up joining on a piece of tigertail to re-thread the beads that had come adrift.

And the extra little thread on L's black t-shirt--consider it a bonus from my studio. It's impossible to go out there without picking up something.

Driving

One of the aspects of spinning and weaving that fascinates me is the juxtaposition of simple machinery, luxurious fibres and sophisticated designs. Occasionally the machinery breaks down. Then I remember that even simple machinery can be difficult to maintain. Fortunately I have a network of friends who share my passion. When the drive band on my drum carder gave way, I searched out a scrap of paper where I'd printed out an email from J a few years ago. There was the address of a transmission supply workshop in Brunswick. I also needed a new drive band for one of my spinning wheels, so I loaded both into the car and off I went. The workshop was a classic mechanical environment: castors, tools and fittings of various kinds. The teaser near the front cash register--where the chocolates are temptingly placed at the supermarket--was a mini grease gun!

J's directions where perfect. When I brought my wheel and carder into the shop, no-one even blinked. The transmission specialist happily observed the special features of my Majacraft wheel, assessed the old drive-band and the challenges of the tiny fast whorls and took off into his workshop. I observed him through a side window of the shop. In that environment my little wheel looked like a toy. After several trials and consultations, he came up with something that worked well. The drum-carder was an easy fix. Off I went with two of my essential pieces of equipment restored to usefulness and a smile on my face. Total cost $10.

Patch Job

I did this rough and ready repair on my old jeans this morning. I was talking to a friend on the phone at the time, and didn't even bother taking the jeans off or finding a matching thread. I just needed the hole to be stabilised. These jeans are favourites, but really only good for wearing around the house now--perfect for a day like today.

I've got another patching challenge with my side fence. It's a paling fence which was old when I bought this place eleven-or-so years ago. It's threatening to fall over into my neighbour's yard. That would be a very unwelcome turn of events just as I'm expecting workmen to come and put up my new shed-studio. I can't face the effort of having it replaced just now either, so it's a case of doing what I can with what I've got. After a trip to the hardware store I'm getting on to it at last. I'm typing this while I take a breather. Driving bolts into red-gum posts is a tough job even when the redgum is old.

Recovering

I'm slowly recovering from last weekend's DIY disaster. Yesterday I spent an amusing and productive hour at the local hardware store buying supplies to patch my plaster wall. If I had a bit more courage I could probably make up my losses with a couple of comedy gigs! The story gets a reaction every time. I'm now the owner of a stud detector that also traces power cables behind the wall. Apparently there is no tool to detect plastic (PVC) water pipes--at least according to my group of new hardware friends.

I came home with enough plaster to fix many, many holes--3 kg is the smallest tub available.
I love the name: "Final Finish". It has a tone of assurance about it! I need that. You can see the patched wall in the background. This morning I'm trying to convince myself that it's safe to have another go at installing that cupboard. I have to confess that patching my wall was easier than patching my confidence. I'm going to carefully map out the territory lurking behind the plaster before I even think about picking up my power drill. Wish me luck.

Phew!!

Ah ha! I found the motivational key to my mending dilemma. The combination of public accountability and human interest did the trick. Here's the repair, done:Once I started, it was a case of tackling the problem step by step. First weave in the broken ends. Then thread the needle with the repair thread and join it into the work near the holes. I've copied the treble stitches by making a double strand of yarn and working a couple of half hitches over each one. Then I've woven in the repair thread. That's the technical detail. The human detail is that I picked up the phone and chatted with my friend D while I did the job. That gave me an instant reinforcement on why I was being so crazy as to try to fix such a fiddly thing!

Repair Operation

Here's the pair of fingerless mittens which arrived in the mail this week. I made them for my friend D a year or few ago. The challenge is to mend the small area where the moths have eaten away some of the fibre. You can just see it on the left--slap bang in the centre of the back where a repair will be most obvious. Darn!The fabric isn't all gone, but there's a weak area about the size of a ten cent piece and a few loose threads sticking out. This is going to be a case of creative reconstruction. I can't think of a way to actually replicate the crochet stitches. Thankfully there is a bit more of the exact same yarn available for me to work with, so colour matching isn't a problem. I'm not looking forward to this task, but it's not going to get any easier by delaying it, so I'm about to sign off here and just have a go.

R.I.P.

This is the sort of sewing I usually avoid: I'd call this a RIP--normally it would mean the end of a garment's life; without even the dignity of a decent burial. But these shorts belong to a good friend, whose budget doesn't stretch very far. Somehow I agreed to see what I can do . . .

There's no fabric missing, but the tear goes just across the edge of the pocket. I'll need to reinforce it as well as pulling the torn edges together. I'd initially thought I'd ladder stitch it by hand to start with, but now I'm not sure if I can face that. I think I'll try iron-on-interfacing and machine zig-zag, with a patch underneath. It won't be a work of art, but the shorts will be wearable for the rest of this season . . . and in today's fashion world, it might even be seen as a design feature.