I’m in the process of overhauling my sewing area – sorting out, discarding scraps and boxing trims and the like.
With the downscale of my life in general, I’ve decided to sew like I want to. I like to buy a piece of material and make it into something. I don’t hoard material and debate what I’m going to make out of it – it’s not how I work. So anything that I can’t make something out of right now, is moving on.
A while ago I bought 2m of shweshwe with a vague idea of making a light jacket. But when I went back to the jacket pattern, I realised I wouldn’t actually wear it so I folded the material and put it on the shelf. And it sat there forgotten until I pulled everything off the shelf.
So this afternoon I put together a simple skirt shaped with box pleats.
There are three pleats on the sides and a zip up the back.
One of the best things about getting rid of things that just hang around is the feeling of lightness – the annoyance of the thing is gone. I got rid of a couple of big items this year that I couldn’t use anymore due to my injured hand, my scooter as an example, and I haven’t missed them since. In some cases, I’ve felt relief as they were taken away.
But in an old way – possibly.
So I’ve shut down the shop side of my new endeavour. A couple of reason including things like terrible exchange rates and no interest in unusual haberdashery. I’m continuing with the costume commissions as I actually enjoy doing them. I just gotta use up 600 lace zips.
Guess I’ll make myself millions of cute dress with lace zips.
I’m a little sad that my second attempt at a shop failed and that I couldn’t get it to work with markets either, but conventions are pretty good so I’ll stick to those. I need weirdos to buy my weirdo stuff 🙂
Apart from much sewing, I’ve been working like a demon on my house. DIY like nothing before – not only paint and drill, but cement and paving.
First up the biggest project – fix a bedroom wall. Dramatic, but technically true.
Leaky gutters cause huge unseen problems. For example, door frame rotted away and mud instead of clay bricks. The smell of earth was really strong when I broke out the concrete in the little courtyard and under the door frame – or rather, the fibres that made up the ‘door frame’. I left it for the summer months to completely dry out.
Once it was completely dry I cemented it all together again. With really old houses, there’s a lot of ‘this doesn’t match’ or ‘why can’t you been even/level’.
Damp seal, paint and pave. A bunch of plants and I’m done. I actually bought a fern today, but haven’t planted it yet. A job for tomorrow.
The next one wasn’t started by me. I just finished up a side section that had originally been left, but turned out to be no good.
Ramp for the scooters
Not only was nothing going to grow in the red sand, the rocks sticking out meant the gate couldn’t fully open to allow the scooters easy access. There was also a near constantly stream of red dust in the house as well.
Neaten and cemented. I also secured the ramp. The angle is steep and the sand was washing away every time the garden was watered. It has since been painted but I don’t have a picture. I’m rather fond of my little steps 🙂
I don’t like DIY, but I can’t seem to find someone to do without quibbling or charging the earth. It’s good to be capable 🙂
What an up and down year. The year started really well and then took a sharp downward turn. Now it is back on the rise.
Suddenly finding yourself without work can really put in you a state. Failing to find a job can really worsen that state. Starting a business can make you too tired to realise you’re in that state. Then lots of little successes and support and enthusiasm make you think you really can do it – and not just telling yourself that but feeling that as well.
The only downer that I haven’t been able to fix up is my story Bring the Rain. Last chapter and it’s half written, and I’m really struggling to get the words right. I’m ready to make peace with the fact that what I wanted and what I produced… They’re going to be different. Not my best work to be sure.
This week is a short working week so I’m off to register my new scooter – Hijikata.
Vivi II (Vivi I was recently stolen) is in front with Hijikata in the back – they look identical. Licence plates will differentiate for the time being. Though Minnow has taken to sitting on HIjikata in the mornings.
Since I only had Noctis for roughly 36 hours and only had one ride on a quiet Sunday morning more than a year ago, I plan to take a couple of quiet rides before going into the traffic. Luckily, it’s December and there’ll soon be school holidays so less traffic. And then there’ll be Christmas day holidays so no traffic. Also I’m a little nervous with about my hand and it’s lack of strength. I would have liked a bike again but cost and injury have limited me, but I’m very happy with Hijikata.
I mentioned that I got a licence renewal for the Chibi. Well, I phoned the dude and he was all ‘gosh, no one did anything’. He said he would sort it out and phone me back. I had no faith. I called back the next day, he said he was on it and would call me back at about two/three that afternoon – of course he didn’t, but I gave him a couple of days to get back to me.
By Monday he hadn’t and I was rather annoyed. I tried calling again but the phone kept ringing out. Now I’m really getting annoyed because as the days go by the possibility of late fines increase. And with suddenly having morning and afternoon work after weeks of no work, I don’t want to take time off to sort this car shit out.
That left Friday afternoon to go to the Civic Centre and scrape the car – wants of the tosser dismissed. I would pay the money needed to get this stress out of my life. The Civic Centre had a long queue on Friday but it usually goes pretty quickly, but not this Friday. I was in the queue for 45 minutes – it was long. I was thinking about how I could be ice skating ‘coz I’d been invited but had to decline.
When I finally get to a window, the lovely lady tells me I can’t scrap the car because it’s not in my name. She even told me the day it had been transferred – in the week of my first call to salvage guy. So he had done as he said he was going to but hadn’t called to say ‘hey, it’s done’.
I sat on the train home thinking I hate men, they are all incompetent. Then I thought, that’s not actually true, there are decent guys out there. But I seem to have to deal with a lot of incompetent ones. And women too – incompetent people! I hate incompetent people.
But actually, I don’t hate anyone.
A friend of mine shared some know how on her Facebook page and a person commented that she shouldn’t show people how to do the thing because then they will do it themselves and she won’t get any money for doing it for them.
This is an attitude that makes me furious. I become irrationally angry at the greedy, selfish, narrow-minded and frankly stupid way of thinking. Not only is it an outdated way of thinking, anyone can take a look at the finished product, hop on to Google and search ‘how to…’ and do it themselves anyway.
Money issue aside, why is it so terrible to share information you have? It’s not like you will lose the information once you tell someone – it’s not cut and paste. It’s so weird, I don’t get it.
A year ago today I killed the Chibi and ruined my left hand.
I sold the Chibi for scrap and the salvager asked me specifically to not deregister the car and he would do it. My inner monologue went along the lines of ‘yeah, right – I’m going to be sorting this out next September when the car license is due’.
And I was right.
In the mail last week was a car license renewal notice. I wasn’t even angry when I saw it, I was resigned – because car/bike things never wrap up smoothly. But it’s a task for Monday, and who knows when it will end.
Today I feel like the world is picking on me.
Everything I try to do is foiled by incompetence, broken machinery and useless websites.
Changing jobs is nerve wracking – there’s the sending CV, interviews, proving yourself as an employee, meeting new people and getting to know new office politics. It’s an uncomfortable process when you plan it, and all out nuts when you don’t.
Work suddenly ran out and I found myself one Thursday afternoon without work until possibly much later in the year. In the interim months I would have nothing. This meant no cashy money, and like most adults, I’ve got bills.
At first I was like ‘aw, shucks’. I had a salary coming at the end of July and I was supremely confidant that I would get a new job quickly. I do my job well, I’m on time, I’m pleasant to everyone, I don’t complain or argue pointlessly – finding a new job would be no problem at all.
Until I came to realise very quickly potential employees don’t know this – all they see is a CV. Along with hundreds of other CVs. Then I felt gloomy. And I convinced myself that I had failed the course I completed the Monday before.
I didn’t fail and I’m using my oodles of free time to do two Coursera courses, some sewing and seriously getting into my Japanese studies again.
It’s not a great situation but it is what it is, so I’ve accepted it and am looking for work.
I don’t like sudden things. Be it noise, change, decisions, doesn’t matter – sudden things make me nervous.
For the last couple of weeks my finger has been giving me some trouble with the cold weather. It’s been stiff and the pulling across the top of the finger when making a fist has been rather painful. But I’ve been doing the exercises, massaging and working it; just keeping going with it.
But something weird happened last night. While I was massaging the underside ligament, I felt something odd. I can’t put into words the sensation – there was just a weird thing and all the pain left my finger. I made a fist and there was no painful pulling. My finger suddenly felt like my other fingers.
Because it was winter I had my hands under the duvet while I watched some TV, and for a while after the ‘weirdness’ I didn’t want to look at my finger. In my mind the reason why it no longer hurt was because something bad had happened and I imagined removing my hand from the warmth of the duvet to find my finger hanging by a ligament, completely dislocated or no longer attached to my hand. Never mind that I could move it, make a fist and feel my other fingers touching it.
When I did take it out, I looked at it for a long time. I watched carefully as I flexed it and curled it. It looked no different but felt worlds better. And it still does this morning.
I don’t know what happened but I’m immensely pleased it did. I do not enjoy constant pain and am glad to be rid of it.