About garment tags. Again. I speak of tags sewn into garments, not the digital ones that run amok all over social media.I have written a rant about tags already in 2010, then re-published the same a year later because I liked it so much. This is completely different. If you are curious about the original, feel free to click the bold text: The War on Tags
I spent most of the day Saturday performing tag-ectomy surgeries. Out of ten garments, I only needed to mend 3 of them, this is a great percentage BTW.
I have questions for the garment industry. I do not know where to send them – this is why I am asking y’all. Please, if anyone happens to know the answer – use the comment section and tell us all!
Why do you use the stiffest, scratchy, and itchiest fabric for the tags? Can’t you use the same fabric as the garment?
Why do you use large, black tags with sheer blouses & nighties?
What is with the tags on the side seams of garments now? If they replaced the neckline ones that could be good, but alas, they are an addition to the removing and resewing process. Grrr!
I am sure there are other questions we would like answered, but those three are the most important in my opinion. If you think of others, please let me know!
As I sat at the dining room table, eating my breakfast of BBQ Pork Fried Rice with a good helping of soy sauce, it occurred to me just how much the pandemic has affected the non-infected who are stuck at home.
When hubby asked me, “Why are you eating that for breakfast?”
My explanation was simple, “it has scrambled eggs in it.”
“I see,” he said. Then he proceeded to fix himself a bowl of the same.
Hubby’s modus operandi (i.e., Latin for ‘Method of Operating’, abbreviated “M.O.” on cop shows), has definitely shifted. No judgments here, just observation. Between the two of us, hubby is (by far) the emotionally stable one.
I began to notice little weirdnesses going on with me a couple months ago, nothing as dramatic as breakfast this morning, but slightly disturbing. I imagine that a mental health professional may see a few of them as red flags for – something.
Like the disgusting ‘frat house’ behavior. So far I have managed to limit this to only in front of the dog, but I fear that one day, without thinking about it, I will let loose with a belch that Booger could be proud of in front of hubby or at (egads!) the post office.
If you don’t know who Booger is – read no further. You are too young to be exposed to the confessions of somebody’s grandma. I would hate to be responsible for shattering your naivete.
Meanwhile, I go about my day apologizing to my dog for each gross noise I create, but I am not ashamed. Truth be told – I am getting really long and loud with all the practice. I’m almost proud of myself.
My personal hygiene tends to deteriorate when I’m anxious or depressed, but it has now reached a record low. Why bother to waste time “gussying up” when I can’t go anywhere, or visit anyone? Even the video conferencing does not prompt me to wear make-up anymore. I look so zombified on video with or without make-up. If I do wear make-up it transforms me into a Zombie Ho and who wants that?
Oddly, I find the whole ‘wear-a-mask’ thing highly convenient. No need for foundation or lipstick. And best of all, no need to wear those uncomfortable temporary teeth!
None of my favorite clothes fit anymore. So, I mix and match comfy with not-too-tight. Then there are days I fall asleep in my clothes and I wake up in the morning already dressed. A true time-saver, really. But after three days I get bored with the outfit and I need a shower.
Three months into the quarantine and my house is a filthy mess, I have too many hobbies to want to cook or clean. The guest rooms have been uninhabitable for the last 2 months, and their condition continues to deteriorate the longer we go without any guests. Large bins of fabric and yarn and unfinished projects are stacked about waiting to be organized. The bed is covered with the things I am currently trying to organize.
Our living room is more like my sewing room with a TV. Oh, and when I am not sewing, I’m working on the last few edits to make before I send my novel out into the wild. I will keep you posted.
I like to play DVDs of comedy and musicals while I sew. Yesterday, I ‘watched’ Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band, and had a grand old sing-along for 86 minutes. A great way to finish binding a quilt!
Today’s agenda is Zoom Church, then begin cutting out fabrics for the first of three baby quilts I want to make this summer. I still need to design the last one, which will probably be a crazy quilt, if you know what I mean…
Since hubby and I meet all the “keep your butt home” directives – we are. It’s easier to dig in and isolate when there are massive quantities of snow everywhere.
Here I was looking forward to being at home, working on my projects. Alas, Both of my sewing machines are not cooperating. That’s correct. BOTH the old and new one refuse to sew. Since each has the same problem, it has got to be me. Usually, I can figure out what is wrong, however, I can’t see inside the threading mechanism enough to figure it out.
I have a ton of sewing to work on. After hours of troubleshooting, cleaning, maintenance, and lots of groaning and growling – I plan to move on to hand sewing. If I tire of that, I’m moving on to yarn projects.
What I should be doing is editing my novel, so I can start my next one during April’s “Camp NaNoWriMo”. With all the lessons learned from last November, I should be able to crank out a suitable first draft. One of the key elements I need to do before camp starts are work on a specific and tight outline. Loose outlines do not work for me – I keep changing things (including the ending) a bunch of times. Then I get “lost.”
“WAhaaa!?!” Did you hear that? That was my loyal readers figuring out why my first book is taking a decade to finish. They will be happy to know that I am editing and NOT re-writing the thing! I finished it in November. Very time-intensive to get it proofread & the bad parts cut out. Some of the first draft paragraphs don’t make sense – even to me.
About The Virus. I’m tired of saying Coronavirus and COVID-19. We all know which Virus we are talking about, right? The one declared a Pandemic. The reason all public events are canceled. Including the Quilt Guild’s meetings and classes. Restaurants & Bars are closed. (Explains the reason booze shelves are empty.) Schools sit empty. I know my granddaughters must be having a blast playing in the snow!
The fact that churches and places of worship are shut down made me sit up and take notice. This is getting scary. Each state and county are putting out announcements and declarations to their local residents. All over this world. This is not a random illness isolated in China or Africa. If you live on the planet Earth – it is affecting your life as I write this. We’re being told that we should not gather in groups of more than 10 people. I wonder if that includes family reunions. Ha!
Schools could be closed down for the rest of the school year. If cases keep increasing, we could be under this “self-quarantine” that long as well. Lord, have mercy! my grandma would say.
If the news doesn’t make you gasp – you are not paying attention. Look around your community and see what the new normal is…
Hoarding behavior has reared it’s ugly head. Major store chains are out of T.P., alcohol, and hand sanitizer. The stores in Calaveras & Tuolumne Counties are barren of hand sanitizer, alcohol, and Bread. T. P. is stolen before it can get out of the market parking lot. Keep your eyes on your cart! We are doing OK. I know how to make bread and I was blessed that our little local store still had eggs and milk on the shelf. I was relieved to find produce (no potatoes though!). Now, we won’t get scurvy. Don’t laugh! People still develop scurvy.
Another winter storm system is due to arrive later this afternoon. Who cares? Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
It’s time to dig out your Oyster Cult album, guys.