|Think soothing thoughts, Joanna. All will be well!|
I have had a seriously horrible day. A couple of horrible days, in fact. I told you in a recent post about the demise of my beloved sewing machine. Well, while I had my hand cranked one to get me by, it wasn’t really satisfactory, so Becca investigated sewing machines and ordered me a new one. As sewing machines go these days, the new one is very basic. Very, very basic – but nonetheless, way more complex than its predecessor, and I was suitably intimidated by its sleek lines, totally different look with arcane knobs, levers, and markings. I stared at it periodically, but for several days, always had something more important to do than to figure out how to use it. Finally, I forced myself to knuckle down, read the instruction booklet and then sit in front of the sewing machine, manual in my lap, and actually stitched a little something. The next day, having conquered the basics, I was working away on my tablecloth (which I have come to resent horribly – as the seeming author of many of my recent woes,) and thinking – actually thinking – that I bet Becca is afraid to sew over pins. Suddenly, as I was sewing over a pin, Snap! Bang! The needle hit a pin, broke, and wedged the now bent pin into a little slot where pins are not meant to be. I replaced the needle, but the machine said only “whirr, whirr,” and refused to sew. I called local service center, and the nice woman tried to help me diagnose the problem - related to feed dogs (Margaret was interested in this, but it had nothing to do with dogs or food) - over the phone, but none of her suggestions worked. So this morning, at the crack of dawn, after minimal sleep, when I had only done a couple of clues on my crossword, and was really not at all ready to face the day, Becca and I forged our way to the sewing machine shop in far distant Ballard. The problem was quickly solved, but I was a little undone by the journey itself, and totally done in by the time we got home. It was Family Kitchen day, and washing hundreds of dishes, trays, pots and pans, just had no appeal. I was planning to make blackberry vinegar, and had to do it this very day, as the blackberries were ripe and would get icky quickly. On our journey, Becca and I had gone to two different grocery stores, and both times, I forgot to get the vinegar I needed for the recipe. So after the Family Kitchen, I went to yet another grocery store, to buy bottles of white wine vinegar. After standing in a humongous line with my vinegar, I reached in my pocket for my money, and realized I had left it home. I inwardly said several bad words, and then debated what to do. I remembered that I had a little emergency cash secreted in my car, so I got that, paid, and finally came home to prepare my blackberries. I looked at the recipe again, and saw that it called not for white wine vinegar, but for rice vinegar, so the white wine vinegar ordeal was all for naught. Another bad word escaped me. Fortunately, I had rice vinegar, and so was able to do step one of my concoction. Then, as I was having guests for lunch tomorrow, I needed to vacuum. I did one room, and was thinking, actually thinking, “All I need now is for my vacuum cleaner to poop out!” At that very moment, it sputtered, groaned, emitted that odious smell of burning electrical things, and died. I could not believe it. This time, I had to actually shriek the bad words. This made me feel a little better. I called Becca and she pointed out that the cat hair on my dark rug was really contrasty, and my guests would be horrified. Not really a comfort. Oh well, I think the best thing I can do now is go to bed. So I will.
|Birds are singing somewhere!|
Update next morning: Turned off light, closed eyes, was strafed by a wretched mosquito. Restrained bad words. Today will definitely be better.