Sometimes, I’ll have an idea of what I want to write on the blog and I’ll spend my time composing paragraphs or thinking of witty things to say and generally enjoying myself. This may cause me to smile for no apparent reason, which I am sure causes all manner of consternation for innocent bystanders. Eventually, I will come to the blog, ready to write and it is at this point that some cranky, school-ma’am-ish alter ego pops up, waving a disapproving finger in my face.
“No, no, no!” this slightly alarming inner voice will tut. “That’s not what you planned to write next. You must stick to the plan and write the other blog post, for which you currently have no ideas, photographs or enthusiasm.”
This is how to kill a blog, people. Develop a bossy subconscious voice that won’t let you have any fun.
I hear that blog plans are a great idea. I understand that developing a routine is great. Except when it comes to me and my blog. This should come as no great surprise to me, given that I am useless at plotting my stories in advance. Why would it be any different for my blog? I write best when I’m writing the stories that are currently setting fire to my imagination, so I’m not going to write the blog post I thought I’d be writing; instead, I’m going to tell you about my weekend and my hunt for treasure.
“Treasure?” you may ask, with a sceptical tone to your voice. Hopefully not too much scepticism, though. I’d like us to keep things tactful on the blog.
The treasure of which I speak does not glitter or gleam, which is a shame, because that would make it a lot easier to find. This treasure lurks in a box tinted in a distinctive shade of green. This treasure can actually be found quite easily on eBay, but where’s the fun in that?
This treasure is, in fact, a buttonhole attachment for a Singer sewing machine.
I’ve seen them in op shops and passed them by because, as much as they fascinated me, I didn’t have an old sewing machine at the time so I couldn’t really justify purchasing them. Of course, now that I need one, they’ve vanished from op shops entirely. Fine, I thought to myself. If op shops don’t have them, perhaps an antiques market will. I knew just the one to try, too: the Vintage Shed in Tyabb. And since the Chef had the Sunday off, I knew precisely when we’d go.
I spent Satuday accidentally finishing my April Delightful Dozen project early (more on that soon) and selling some old cameras that were just collecting dust on my desk. When Sunday rolled around, I was ready. I was prepared. I was going to hunt my treasure and not be distracted by anything else.
So of course I was distracted by plenty else. In order of distaction, I found: a 1954 edition of the famous Singer Sewing Book with dust jacket, two gorgeous 1960s dress patterns and a piece of fabric in a mad swirly print that I suspect was once a quilt cover.
And then I found it.
Sometimes, I get a feeling as I walk into an op shop or a stall at an antiques market; a sense that I’m going to find something right here. I suspect it’s some inner part of my brain recognising a shape before my conscious thoughts have time to notice it. The feeling is never wrong. So when the feeling came over me that I should walk back out of a particular stall instead of through it, I went with it. Which is how I spotted a sewing machine on the floor. Which is how my eye was drawn to the cabinet right next to it where my treasure was lurking in the shadows. And given that said treasure was black, I’m almost impressed at myself that I saw it at all.
It was even well within the price range I’d set in my head and comes with a bonus manual for my sewing machine, for some reason. So now I have two of those. (I’ve actually seen sewing machine manuals on eBay for silly prices, so maybe I shouldn’t be so complacent about my surfeit of them.)
I managed to take a photo of most of my treasures, despite my cats’ insistence that I take photos of them instead.
Look at the lady on the left in the McCall’s pattern: she’s working an almost identical pose to the one in the Simplicity pattern. Or is it the other way around? I can’t remember which one is newer. No-one, however, is game enough to take on the other Simplicity lady with her hand-in-an-awkwardly-placed-pocket gesture. She’s rocking that. I also like her direct expression – it’s as though she’s wordlessly asking us if we think her glove will stay in the pocket if she tries to take her hand out. My thought is: Yes. Yes it will.
I’m planning to use the crazy swirly fabric to make the belted shift dress. It features odd, long darts that I believe are French darts. I’ve never made a dress with these darts before, so that should be fun. Plus, it will be covered in silly multi-coloured swirls, which is a win in my book (but possibly no-one else’s).
As for the Chef, he found a giant stein that he has been drinking out of ever since he brought it home. And by ‘giant’ I mean ‘I can stick my hand in it up to my shoulder’. And even though it’s a stein, there’s no beer involved, just in case you were worried about the state of his liver.
But the best thing is still the buttonholer. I’ve told my 201K all about it, because it’s normal to talk to sewing machines, even if they’re packed away in their cabinet and probably can’t hear you very well. My next purchase should probably be a new belt for the treadle, so I can actually move myself a little closer to being able to use the machine and its new toy.
I hope everyone else had an equally lovely weekend. And if you have any plans that are holding you back from having fun, why not see if you can sneak around them instead? I highly recommend it.