What Would Laura Ingalls Wilder Do? Drink Some Wine and Sew Some More.

I stayed up until 4 am last night sewing xmess presents. I realized today that the sound of the machine, so comforting to me, probably irritated the neighbors. Then I though about how their child has endless screaming tantrums and decided not to feel guilty.
In the past twenty-four hours, my sewing machine has:

  • Refused to work. The thread wouldn't catch. I disassembled it, cleaned its nooks and crannies, swapped bobbins, everything. Turns out that the problem was a little burr on the spool of thread I was using that prevented the thread from feeding. 
  • Broken two needles. This was my fault. I recently fell in love with a quarter inch foot that is apparently NOT for zigzag. My previous favorite utility foot is, so it didn't occur to me that the slimmer foot would be a problem. Thank god I had a whole pack of needles, but I could definitely have done without catching part of a needle in my hand.
  • Burned through a surprising amount of bobbin thread. I could probably wind a bobbin in my sleep now. Maybe I did last night.
  • Installed many a zipper (with my guidance). The new fave quarter inch foot is great for zippers, so I don't have to swap feet to put them in. Zippers are now my bitch.
Even though the sewing has been a little fiddly, it has been so much quicker than knitting presents like I usually do. I've decided that most of my family aren't knitworthy. I got tired of seeing the presents that took me hours to make get casually tossed on the pile. The work was not appreciated.

Mad Men has fueled my holiday craft marathons in the past (or one year, shamefully, Gossip Girl), but this year I'm working my way through all of the episodes of Saving Grace on Netflix. Maybe I needed a badass Holly Hunter fix and didn't know it. I've also got the new Jane Eyre adaptation out from the library, but that seems like something that requires a little more attention. 

In other news, my cell phone broke. It still works, after a fashion, but the scroll pad refuses to scroll. I can't check my email, text messages, use the internet, turn my ringer back on, or about a dozen other things without it. All those reasons I want a smartphone now don't work. So, if I've missed a call from you in the past few days, I apologize. I'll call you when I get my new phone tomorrow. I decided to abandon the Blackberry (8 track of the 2000s) for an iphone. Yes, I've mocked them in the past. Yes, I tease one of my friends for his near-obsessive love of his iphone. I just want a smartphone that works, has no scroll button to break (which killed my last two phones), and doesn't have a squint-inducingly tiny screen. That leaves android phones and the iphone. The tech support guy who remotely reprogrammed my Blackberry when its data service went out told me that iphones generate the fewest number of problem tickets of any phones on my carrier. What else do you need to know? My new phone is in the FedEx depot across the street from my apartment, which has me as antsy as a kid waiting for Christmas. I wish I could just go get it, but I'll have to wait for them to deliver it tomorrow. Sometimes the tracking page is not your friend.


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