I wouldn't normally show you this, because I don't let anyone, not even my kids, into the 'sewing room'. I don't even like to go in there myself lately, because of all the unfinished objects that mock me and catcall as I pass the doorway. It has come down to this, however; I *have* to go in there, to rescue the cutting table for the shop, and if I don't make it out alive, I want y'all to know what happened.
My plan is this: take a big box and a few baskets in. Quickly swoop the stacked fabric into a basket, toss the stray yarn balls into their bag (they have a bag they can see out of, though they complain bitterly about being cramped), and rake the rest of the miscellaneous 'crap' into a box so that I can at least SEE the table. Then it gets really tricky...
You see, when this table was in it's previous life, it lived in a fabric store. Granted, a not-very-nice fabric store, but a shop nonetheless. It was made of oak and built sturdily enough, but the shop owners gave it an ugly, glued-on Naugahyde top, and a coating of (once bright) apple green paint. It is now worn and chipped with age and use. I have been gentle with it since it came to live here. It has been of great use to me, on the rare occasions when I can find it. (I have a bit of a problem with surfaces... working on it, though.)
The contortions I'm going through to save money are almost silly. It's important to have comfortable seating in the shop for the knitters, a place to color plan quilts for the stitchers, and overall, I've had to opt for decent floor coverings in lieu of a new computer, though the credit card, swipey machine will be in residence... I'm not going back to the dark ages. With time and success I can add all the details that are lacking... Quickbooks on a store computer, for instance. Which is how I come to be resurrecting my personal cutting table for Clementine's shop. We are in conservation mode, recycling what and where we can. Trust me, if I weren't desperate, there is no way I'd be going in after this :
My plan is this: take a big box and a few baskets in. Quickly swoop the stacked fabric into a basket, toss the stray yarn balls into their bag (they have a bag they can see out of, though they complain bitterly about being cramped), and rake the rest of the miscellaneous 'crap' into a box so that I can at least SEE the table. Then it gets really tricky...
You see, when this table was in it's previous life, it lived in a fabric store. Granted, a not-very-nice fabric store, but a shop nonetheless. It was made of oak and built sturdily enough, but the shop owners gave it an ugly, glued-on Naugahyde top, and a coating of (once bright) apple green paint. It is now worn and chipped with age and use. I have been gentle with it since it came to live here. It has been of great use to me, on the rare occasions when I can find it. (I have a bit of a problem with surfaces... working on it, though.)
The contortions I'm going through to save money are almost silly. It's important to have comfortable seating in the shop for the knitters, a place to color plan quilts for the stitchers, and overall, I've had to opt for decent floor coverings in lieu of a new computer, though the credit card, swipey machine will be in residence... I'm not going back to the dark ages. With time and success I can add all the details that are lacking... Quickbooks on a store computer, for instance. Which is how I come to be resurrecting my personal cutting table for Clementine's shop. We are in conservation mode, recycling what and where we can. Trust me, if I weren't desperate, there is no way I'd be going in after this :
You can't know how humiliated I feel, showing this to you, but I felt I needed to come clean a bit about my lack of compulsive organization when it comes to my "stuff". I'd show you the rest of the room, but then you'd be afraid of me, and I kind of like that you visit sometimes. Here, look at some yarn to forget about the horrific mess you just saw...
Pretty, no? It's Panda Cotton, in 29 different colors, so I'd have something for those unfortunate souls who are *allergic* to wool, but passionate about mastering socks. (ahem) Now I'm off to collect the various boxes, baskets, etc. needed to unearth the cutting table. If I can't get that icky stuff off the top, I'm going to at least recover it with something much prettier. So, a good day to all you knittahs out there. Cami
5 comments:
I wouldn't feel to bad...you should see our mom's stash.....half the den part of the basement....never mind her sewing area off the kitchen and the projects amongst her computer....and sadly I am taking after her and as is D-fly....
You can do it, Camilla. Be brave, little knitter. I'll cover your back . . .
Way to distract us with the panda cotton. We're all little zombies now, saying "yyyaaaarrrrnnnnn..."
Lol! That picture makes me feel better...I'm not the only one with a sewing room covered with projects! :)
Oh yeah, totally taking after that. and we have tiny apartments! The cutting table story reminds me of the family orange folding table for some reason. It's been my mom's forever. It's bright orange with 60's flower decals on it. It folds flat with a handle so you can carry it. Been used for everything over the years. Currently Mojave sister has it.
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