Saturday, December 23, 2006

Reaching new heights of domestitude

I did something new and exciting with my wife this week ... yeah, right, like I'm going to post details about something like THAT on the internet (call me). Instead I'll regale with this tale of personal growth.

It being nigh-on Christmas, she has the hankering to make someone a quilt. Happens every year. The school break approaches, she senses a little bit of free time, and geometric patterns swirling in a nebula of colors fill her head. This year's winner is her new sister, fresh in town after a cross-country journey.

The other night she began the cutting and shaping and sewing of fabric, and lamented about how her new sewing machine hasn't been working properly. She got to use it for one project and then something "happened" to it. Being a professional quilter, naturally she has a back-up machine, but what's the point of the new nice machine, if it doesn't work? Doing my husbandly duty, for once, I decided to take a look at it. In the front of my brain was the recognition that I know absolutely nothing about sewing machines. In the deep innards of my brain, the prehistoric reptilian part, was the acknowledgement of my fear of sewing machines. They have cooties, plain and simple. But this was my wife in a moment of need. If I didn't come to her rescue, who would? As it is, she often calls out to Hugh Jackman in the dark of night. Here at last, was my chance to one-up that sexy Aussie punk. Heck yes. Let's see HIM do domestical stuff around the house. So, full of spite, I headed down into the basement.

Being smart like I sometimes am, I referred to the owner's manual' s Quick Start section and gave myself a quick primer on sewing machine operation. Then I mucked around with it for a while. Eventually, after only a single beer, I got it working and thought I'd try it out on some scraps of fabric. Next thing I know, I'm sewing strips of fabric that will actually be used in this quilt. With every stitch thrust into the fabric by the machine's needle, I'm thinking, " Does this woman have any idea what she's doing? I've never considered her a rock of sanity, but she's really gone over the edge, trusting me with this."

Two nights later...she has a completed quilt top. And I helped. And it was fun. I look forward to doing it again. I mean, afterall, a sewing machine is just another power tool, right?

Oh, and the problem with the machine? I believe it was a poorly wound bobbin snagging and causing the needle thread to jump off of one of the guides and bunch up under the fabric. But what do I know?

Playing on XM: Funky Christmas tunes on Special X-mas.

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