But I digress. The sheet I had used to make said duvet cover in the first place had an unfortunate stain right in the middle of it, possible for me to ignore, but shameful to pass off on the unsuspecting thrift store customer who might pick it up. So I did what any insane (I am often called "creative") person would do in this situation: I spent 45 minutes ripping out the seams and then tearing the sheet into a pile of inch-wide strips. Then I stayed up until 2 a.m. watching episodes of "Call the Midwife" as I braided the strips into a 3-ply, and wound the whole thing on a spindle* [* See picture. I have no idea what the original use for this item was, but we used to use it to wind up our electrical extension cords. I think it's a spindle-type thing.]
Now fully invested in a project I no longer care about, I'm determined to make a god-dammed throw rug by sewing the plait with a big honkin' needle I've had lying around for years just waiting for its moment of fame and some white kitchen string. We're heading out to Seattle, so I figure that gives me time to start and finish. Wrong. As I stitch what is supposed to be a coil, the braid twists and curls, making a very ugly basket or very possibly a perfect crazy lady hat. Lie flat, I command the thing. It refuses. I consider stabbing myself with the needle.
I rail against my fate, and start over, making s-turns and hoping for a more rectangular outcome. I am now about a third done with this attempt. It is not at all satisfying. And when it is done, it will have justly earned the title of Stupidest Craft Project Ever.
If you are reading this, and if you have ever been romantic about spending your time by the fireplace, making a braided rag rug - even dreaming that you might make more than one, becoming a vendor at craft fairs, reducing the size of the local landfill by recycling discarded t-shirts and bedding - heed my warning. It is not a good idea. You would be better served by reading a bad novel, writing one, or simply lying in bed covered by a stained duvet while you do either of the above.
|Steek with the new dog, Boucle|