John set my sewing machine back up today. We haven't finished putting together my craft space, which will have to move to the living room now that Bea is here. Eventually, the plan is to finish the "spare" room as Bea's room and have her sleeping in there, but since she's so tiny right now, it's been much easier on everyone having her sleep in our room. Without needing her to be in there, the urgency to get it done just hasn't been there, so it's a task that remains completely unfinished. As a consequence of pregnancy, and life, and business, I haven't been able to get at my sewing machine, or even sew a stitch, for over a year. Well, tonight, that changed.
(Her nickname, BTW, is "Belda")
John and I just bit the bullet and spent some of the diapering money his dad gave us buying a "pocket system" style of cloth diaper, and we're going to launder them ourselves. Since we don't pay for water here, and it's summer and in theory I can dry a bunch of diapers on the line outside, and even with the added electric costs, it will still be cheaper than paying the diaper service every month. Plus, these are SO CUTE.
So, once we decided that we were going to be washing all our own diapers, I started looking at the cost of the disposable wipes. We're spending at least $15 a month on just diaper wipes, and making bags and bags of waste! I decided to go get a bunch of flannel on sale with a coupon I had for JoAnn Fabrics, and get some stuff to make a huge pile of cloth wipes as well, and just launder them with the diapers.
John knew I wanted to sew tonight. He did some rigging of electrical cords to make one stretch under my desk in the living room, which meant my machine was finally able to turn on, wind a bobbin, and start in on creating.
When I was little, I took it for granted that my mom could make stuff. I thought everyone's mom could sew. I very clearly remember the sound of shears clicking on a table, the soft snicking of the fabric falling away from the blade. I remember the clack of the feed dogs and the hum of the motor. It was always a comforting sound, because it meant that mom was near and also that when we woke up there would usually be new stuff for us. I am currently using my Great Gramma Lona's machine, the one I've had since her death over 10 years ago. It came to me with the stitch sample swatch still tucked into the maintenance kit, saying it had been "Personally tested by Belda." (Hence, the name.) The way this old Bernina sounds is just like my Mom's sewing machine (also an old Bernina) and it brought back several happy memories tonight as I sewed little cloth wipes for my sweet little Bea. I love the feel of the fabric, flying between my fingers, and the hum of the needle next to the click of the feed dogs. I feel at my best when I'm sewing, almost a dreamy and trance like state where I just sink into myself and focus on the next step and the next and the next.
I have really, really missed it.
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