I was halfway through a post about the lead-up — the Advent — to this Christmas, this holiday season in which Covid-19 has toppled all our expectations. . . I’d included some laments but moved quickly to some consideration of the possible benefits this toppling might offer. . . and I’d exemplified with some highlights from my first week of Advent, of waiting and preparing for a December 25th that will clear the ground for seeing what really matters for us at this time of the year.
But the post was getting away from me, and I’ve decided I’ll wait until Sunday or Monday to click “Publish.”
Instead, I’m offering these pages from my Sketch Journal as a way to share a recent project or two.
The scribbles, top left: Face masks, dish cloths and tea towels upcycled from a worn linen sheet. . . and now Nola’s asked me to mend her ripped jeans.
Middle: Husqvarna, Vanessa, bought in ’77, at Eaton’s, New Westminster, a splurge on sale $400. . .
At the bottom of the page: Because the ink from yesterday’s sketch had bled through here, I thought I’d glue a sketch over those marks — and rummaging around my desk for paper, I found a stash of envelopes with cards saved from my 60th birthday. This bright green appealed to me, the envelope enclosing a card from L and P. Sketching my 40+year-old Husqvarna with a dip pen inked in waterproof black.
But I had more to say, it turned out, although no more room left to write it on. So I snipped and glued some more, and stole some space from the facing page.
Hidden under the flap: I thought of the way Mom would show us how to open envelopes, after the letters or bills had been extracted, and use them to draw or write, perhaps to practice our spelling words. Sometimes she’d fill the space with a grocery list, send us down to Safeway guided by her schoolteacher handwriting. I don’t think we were poor enough that she was doing it out of necessity. Respect, rather, I think. Reluctance to waste. Familiarity with need. And simple & creative innovation.
I’m going to post again tomorrow, because I’m dying to share the Sashiko mending I did on my granddaughter’s jeans. . . .While you’re waiting for that post (I know: with bated breath, right? Nothing else to do ;-). . . perhaps you’d care to comment on this one. I guess if there’s a theme here to comment on, it would have to do with the kind of creativity that’s involved in the quotidian domestic. The creativity of frugality (I’m so tickled with the linen dish cloths I cut and stitched out of the overpriced linen sheet that wore out in two short years — because the fabric was worn, I stitched two layers together, finished seams on the inside to prevent fraying, quilted all over for additional strength — they’re wonderfully thirsty, so absorbent). . . . whatever strikes your fancy, really, even if it’s just a Wave.
xo,
f
I am finding pleasure in making things these days, especially when they involve a bit of re-use. I like the idea of upcycling and I also like not having to make more trips out to stores than necessary given the uptick in Covid cases. At the moment I am re-purposing fabric that had been a pillow cover but was too flimsy for that use and always looked rather droopy. I'm sandwiching a piece of batting between layers of the fabric, quilting it, and turning it into a coffee cozy for my husband's carafe. While it's true that the coffeepot has a warming plate that it could sit on, it's nice to have the carafe right on the table for these mornings when we linger over breakfast chatting and browsing the morning news. I like thinking of the way it will sit companionably next to my teapot, ensconced in its own cozy.
I find so much solace and communion in your posts. I'm quite sure that this is one of maybe five places on the Internet where "bated breath" is spelled correctly AND the readers know it.
I had been saving old envelopes for shopping lists, etc. I recently went through the shredding bin to cut up any usable bits, approximately Post-It size, and put them into a little box in my desk drawer. Very useful. Like your parents, it isn't because I can't afford a packet of Post-Its; it's because I don't want to waste. It adds up, really.
I can imagine your pleasure sat pottering away at your sewing machine. Time just disappears on those occasions. I need to get mine out soon to create a new skirt. The material has been looking at me dolefully for some time but each time I get the machine out I always find something else to use it for. Here’s wishing you a lovely weekend. B x
Oh, can't wait for the Advent post! I will refrain from spoiling my Advent for now, but suffice to say that it involves 3 (!) Advent calendars (none of them wine/cheese or chocolate, alas) when in most years past I've not managed one.
My machine is a late 80's Singer, and has gotten incredibly fussy. It wasn't coming to Portugal anyway, but I'm figuring I'll get a Viking or a Husqvarna (which a brief Google search informs me are now the same company!) when I get there.
We,my mother and me,stil save our envelopes for grocery lists (or bookstore lists-I've had one yesterday in a brick and mortar bookstore….and eventually ordered to pick my books there-if they will be open next week- there were too many people,with masks but still too close) or messages left on the table…
Our lawnmowers are Husquarna btw,mother's sewing machine is Singer
Dottoressa
Yes, my mother also re-used envelopes for shopping lists etc., and I still do. My father used to write a lot, being s social scientist and academic teacher, and the first draft was always done with pencil on paper, each page on a new sheet. When the text had been typed out, the draft sheets went into a special drawer of his desk, the only one my sister and I were allowed to open. We would then draw or paint on the back of these sheets.
My sewing machine was given to me by a large group of friends as a birthday present many years ago. The purchase was organized by a friend who is a trained seamstress (among many other things) and she picked a machine by "brother" which has proven just right for me.
Can't wait to see your sashiko mending!
Can't wait to see your visible mending! My mother was like yours, but I had forgotten that envelope move. In her case also not driven by lack but by a deep frugality and dislike of waste. She would also re-use paper napkins if they were not obviously dirty, writing our initials in the corner in pencil. I'll be your mother also saved string?
Random thoughts…my beloved tea towel collection, from my days living in Ireland and England. They are 37 years old and still going strong, made of Irish linen. Each one bought at a historic location as a souvenir. My homemade masks using old tshirts, pillowcases, etc.
Took a quick pic of a recipe lately to send to a friend and smiled to think she would see it was written on a used envelope. One thing I can't stand (and oh there are many) is cooking from a recipe on a laptop/phone etc. So anything I am going to make (as opposed to just saving ha ha) is transcribed onto paper.
I growl on your behalf re those sheets.
Slight variation on re-purposing: I went through my fabric stash in March to make masks for family and friends. Had to laugh as some of the material was originally bought to make things for one of my granddaughters when she was a tot. She is now 19 years old. Also went through my long-saved fabric scraps and found pieces just large enough to make masks for the my youngest grandchildren. Finally! I knew there was a reason I saved them.
Frugality, I love that word. It’s the reason that I keep all manner of odds and ends. My mother’s fault of course. I wonder if this season of Covid will influence the younger generations in their disposable and throw away habits.
In this house it’s very common to find bits of paper with long forgotten list on on side, and a blank side waiting for a new list. Yes, even though a list on the phone is also used.
Ali
RK: I read your comment yesterday, not long after it landed here, and I was so pleased that the first comment on this post captured so much of what I was trying to say. . . and then some. I like that your frugality also extends to wise use of your time outside the house right now. . . frugality in its best sense often connects with sagacity.
Taste of France: Another comment that really pleased me . . and not only because of your kind words about my writing (thank you!). . .
CR: I hadn't had mine out for decades for anything other than running up seams on doll clothes my granddaughter was attempting to make. Not sure I'll get back to making garments but, as you say, one thing leads to another. . . and since we're the only ones in here these days, I've been letting the sewing station set-up stay where it is, despite the room in takes in our relatively small space.
CarolP: Savour those Advent calendar days — do you have one for morning, then afternoon, then evening? 😉
Absolutely with you on always reusing envelopes. Very handy shopping lists, to do lists etc. During lockdown gardening supplies were very limited, because the nation discovered gardening. For want of propagating pots I was using anything that would hold soil – cut-down cardboard milk cartons, yoghurt pots, plastic bottles, even small cardboard containers that skincare supplies had come in. Very satisfying. I don't own a sewing machine, and always admire your creativity with one or two needles. I gave away my mother's sewing machine when she died, as I knew I would never use it. Better to go to a good home than to sit unloved.
Funny that you should write about this. Although I have been gifted clever notepads and gotten them from organizations as adverts, I can't recall ever buying a notepad. For years, I used the back of free coupons that came in the mail for my shopping lists. And my father, using a paper cutter, would chop up business letters to recycle the plain white portions into post-it size pieces for notes. I still have some of those small pieces of note paper and every time I use one it reminds me of him, although he passed away a number of years ago. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to buy notepads but that he disliked waste. He and my mother also saved rubber bands and twist ties in neat little bundles. Now I can' stop myself from doing the same!
slf
*can't
slf
I take great pleasure in my linen tea towel collection, brought home from my travels, one at a time. They make great souvenirs- easy to pack, inexpensive, and sweet memory-makers.
Dottoressa: I've mostly done pick-up for pre-ordered books but yesterday went in to a neighbourhood shop (needed to browse, in person, trying to find books for tricky people on my Christmas list). . . only 4 (masked) customers allowed in at once (15 minutes each), so I felt comfortable enough. . . . we had a Husqvarna chainsaw on the island. . .
Eleonore: What a thoughtful gift — and how clever of your friend to organize that. So much better than a bunch of smaller individual gifts — one of those gifts that keeps on giving!
Duchesse: I don't remember Mom saving string, particularly, but there was probably some stored in the "junk drawer" — all manner of useful oddments that we're more likely to discard as clutter these days.
KathyLiz: Yes! This is what has annoyed and perplexed me about having linen sheets wear out and being told that's to be expected. Done right, linen is such a hard-wearing fibre/fabric. . . I'm sure your tea towel collection brings much enjoyment to your dish-drying 😉
Georgia: Thanks for that growl (see above, my response to KathyLiz). . . I regularly find myself cooking from a screen recipe, but you're absolutely right — it's very frustrating (especially if, like me, security is set at five minutes. . . also scrolling down with a greasy or floury finger. . . Plus I quite like the idea of taking a few minutes to write down a recipe and thus avoiding some of the silly errors I've been known to make. Will try to adopt your practice.
Mary: How good that you had that fabric stash, though, and what a good opportunity to use it. To make masks while shops were closed during that first wave, I had to solicit worn dress shirts from the fellows in the family. . . (like Kathy, with her worn pillowcases, upcycling, repurposing).
Ali: Another fan of creative frugality, yay! In my experience, actually, there is a good strong cohort among younger generations who are rescuing forgotten practices of such frugality — and inventing their own. They give me hope. . .
Linda: This is an area in which I could really improve, except that it's difficult for an urban gardener with very little space — propagating more of what we grow here would mean fewer of the plastic plant pots to recycle. Your use of a variety of available containers recalls all those cans and cut-down milk cartons that lined my grandma's window ledges, filled with geranium cuttings over the winter and seedlings in the early spring. A young artist here has painted a delightful series of plants grown in colourful containers put to second use by her grandmother, part of daily life in her native Costa Rica. . .
slf: Yes! And I find it hard to throw out those twist ties, even when it's pretty obvious I'm not going to need 20 of them anytime soon 😉 Recently, I figured out how to start a rubber-band ball, just like the one my Grandma kept adding to. . .
noelle: you and KathyLiz both . . . a sweet way to bring travel memories into daily life back home.
I was taken by the sketch of your sewing machine – is it red in colour? I have a similar Husqvarna, purchased in 1983 and I use it continually. It's sitting on my dining room table with piles of half-finished flannel jammies and nighties. I have a sewing room upstairs, but prefer hauling my current projects downstairs where I can sew in the midst of things.
My mother used envelopes, too – most frequently for lists or notes. Purchasing note paper was unheard of as there was always some little scrap that could be used. She did have writing pads for the long letters she exchanged with her sisters.
I've begun mending some of our cashmere sweaters which, alas, appeal to moths. I'll look forward to seeing your visible mending – sashiko is so pretty.
I love the idea of frugality as the mother of creativity.
Lorrie: Yes! Mine's red as well, a deep wine red. You're lucky to have that sewing room, but/and I find it interesting (and validating!) that you nonetheless prefer to work at the dining table. Reminds me that even when I've had room for a dedicated space (which I have been known to lament now that we don't have such space) . . . I used to do the same. . . and with the current restrictions, since no one else will be coming into our space anyway, my projects seem to land right in the middle of life, on that table 😉
I've been doing some visible mending on moth damage using wool roving and a felting needle. . . and if you could find roving that was close to the sweater colour, it could be almost indiscernible, I suspect.
It must be a generational thing — my father used to save all of the empty envelopes from our mail, and use them as scrap paper for notes next to the telephone. The pens and pencils were coralled in a styrofoam tray from supermarket veggies.