We’re living in a time when time has converged with space, especially for older people who are mostly staying home and/or apart. We have different time than we had before C-19. I’d say we have more time, but that isn’t quite true. The virus has changed time. I’m about to drive to the big city for groceries, a task that once took 2 hours and involved pushing a cart around a store. I never liked that much and now I don’t do it. I drive to the store, I get my stuff, I leave. There are thousands of changes like this to our “time.”
Quotidian reality seems to get weirder and weirder and, as a friend said last night in a text:
She’s been making beautiful masks but got tired of it and started drawing. And I agree with her. We have at least six more months to go. Her drawing is really lovely and I hope she keeps at it.
Someone should do a study on what people, especially older people who are more-or-less staying home, started doing — or trying to do — in this historic interval.
My sewing hopes were dashed yesterday when I realized that the problem I’m having is not me, but with my tool — specifically that sewing machine. After an HOUR of total frustration trying to sew seam binding on a hem, trying to keep the needle threaded, trying to use zig-zag (fuck that), I gave up. I’d have put the damned thing out by the mailbox with a free sign if it hadn’t been going to rain.
Before I gave up I went online to see what other people had to say, just to affirm it wasn’t me and, maybe, to get some advice. Turned out that everything I’ve experienced since I got that bitch isn’t just me. Many people liked it, but others, particularly those who were just hoping to have a simple-to-use machine and were experienced at sewing were very unhappy with it, complaining that it didn’t stay threaded, that the bobbin was unnecessarily complicated, that it jammed on zig-zag, and that the tension was nearly impossible to set correctly for upper and lower threads. Everything I’d been dealing with. Most of the positive were “I just got it and I love it!” I named mine “Mom” since no matter what I do, it’s not happy. I may use it to finish the two projects I have hanging fire, but…
I don’t even want to give it to anyone I know because I like all the people I know. It would just be wrong. My guess is that there are some of these out there that are well made and work right and others that are crap. But now I understand why the woman I bought mine from was standing outside in the snow on a 10 degree day waiting for me the day I bought it. I thought it was the $50 but now I think it was that she wanted this demon out of her house.
“I bought one I like better,” she said, and handed it to me.
I still want a sewing machine, but looking at new ones online, I don’t see anything I remotely want to touch. I wish I’d kept mine when I moved, but…
I am thinking of stopping writing my blog every day, even though I want to support the RagTag Daily Prompt. I really have absolutely nothing whatsoever to say. 😦 You probably realized that before I did…
Meanwhile, here’s something fun to read. You will laugh.
Dear Diary: https://medium.com/@ffejdnalloh21/dear-diary-2020-edition-9406f477d7b7