I have a friend whose son said he learned to swear listening to his mother at the sewing machine.
I can relate.
Remember our DIL asked for some placemats, a Christmas tree skirt and two pillows for the porch out of the plaid horse blanket I had purchased years and years ago.
I thought those would be easy peasy projects so said yes, I'd do it. I have my own deadline because we will be seeing grandson Charlie soon and wanted to have him take them home to his mom. So I got to cutting.
This blanket/fabric ravels like crazy. It's thick and tightly woven but cut that edge and it's a continual game of catch up.
I bought some two-inch wide cotton twill tape because I have to be able to bend it. I ironed it in half so the front and back would be equal. The issue is that tape just didn't want to play along.
I worked and worked for 3.5 days solid, all day, pinning, maneuvering, and it was a disaster at every step. Did I give up? No. I was going to win, dammit.
I had to sew two rows of seams on all sides. One straight and then saw the twill was just flying and wrinkling so ran a zig zag to tame it. But it was ugly. Words were said. For 3.5 days solid.But where I joined the two ends was the worst. Absolute worst. I finished them because I was hoping the more I did the better I'd figure it out. And I couldn't take a seam ripper to it, the stitches just buried themselves in the binding. I slept on it. In the night it came to me.





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