{"id":52,"date":"2012-05-31T09:44:00","date_gmt":"2012-05-31T09:44:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing\/"},"modified":"2017-03-09T17:15:32","modified_gmt":"2017-03-09T22:15:32","slug":"adventures-in-swearing-sewing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing.html","title":{"rendered":"Adventures in <del>Swearing<\/del> Sewing"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p>Well, I\u2019ll be going to confession this weekend.<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-pha4IQK2XF0\/T8eYKJlHGrI\/AAAAAAAABkU\/BWyMOjM8ru8\/s1600\/memorable+confession.png\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-pha4IQK2XF0\/T8eYKJlHGrI\/AAAAAAAABkU\/BWyMOjM8ru8\/s640\/memorable+confession.png\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" width=\"321\" height=\"640\"><\/a><\/div>\n<p>Yesterday I learned two important things about myself. First, I am not utterly hopeless and bereft when it comes to all household arts aside from cooking. Second, that creative bastion of colorful swear words that I gleefully collected in college was in fact <em>not <\/em>eradicated from my vocabulary. It was merely being stored away for a time of need, like when I spent half an hour trying to thread a needle, finally got it, and then promptly snagged the thread and pulled it back out.<\/p>\n<p>Our dear neighbors across the street, to whom we\u2019ve become quite attached, are moving back to their northern home next week. I don\u2019t know what we\u2019ll do without them. They\u2019re both retired, and while their son is at school down the street they spend their days hanging out in the garage, playing cards with my kids and keeping an eye on my front door, out of which Liam occasionally likes to escape. His life has been saved several times by Uncle D, a cigarette-smoking, beer-drinking, bicycle-fixing gem of a man who has become my husband\u2019s go-to confidante and a stand-in uncle\/grandpa for all three of my children. He has the patience of a saint, and when he doesn\u2019t he just goes inside and closes the garage door. Aunt G taught Sienna to play Uno and Skip-Bo, and she offered to teach me to sew and let me borrow her sewing machine, which she\u2019ll be leaving behind. In typical fashion, though, I waited until the last minute, and yesterday she was kind enough to give me an hour-long lesson even though they left for a wedding at 5 a.m. this morning.<\/p>\n<p>I was really surprised to find that what makes sewing difficult is not the actual sewing. If you have a sewing machine, the actual sewing part is simple. A trained monkey could do it, and could probably stitch straighter lines than I can. What a trained monkey could most emphatically <em>not <\/em>do, however, is make sense of the heavily encrypted codes they sell at fabric stores under the dubious guise of \u201cpatterns\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>The internets and I spent well over two hours yesterday trying to crack the cipher. We watched video after annoyingly cheerful video, all promising to make pattern-reading \u201csimple\u201d and all failing miserably. I learned some valuable lessons, but not one internet video answered the burning question that drove me there in the first place: which way does the fabric go? Wrong side up or right side up? I got so frustrated that when the Ogre called to see how it was going I was basically incoherent. \u201cIt\u2019s ridiculous going, that\u2019s what! This stupid thing says the (expletive) thing should be color-coded and it <em>is<\/em> shaded but they have it all\u2026all\u2026.like, folded, sort-of thing, so I can\u2019t even tell which side to (expletive) fold over and cut the (expletive) out!\u201d<\/p>\n<table class=\"tr-caption-container\" style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;\" cellspacing=\"0\" cellpadding=\"0\" align=\"center\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-gQ5wE-On6pc\/T8eaarZv0pI\/AAAAAAAABkk\/YaXenHdelt4\/s1600\/pattern+pinning.jpg\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-gQ5wE-On6pc\/T8eaarZv0pI\/AAAAAAAABkk\/YaXenHdelt4\/s400\/pattern+pinning.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" width=\"298\" height=\"400\"><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td class=\"tr-caption\" style=\"text-align: center;\">Proper English was murdered during the pinning on of this pattern<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p>Worried about my complete inability to form a coherent sentence, the Ogre came home for lunch and figured it out in ten minutes flat. (He claims this is due to his superior intellect, but I have it on good authority that he was forced into taking a home ec class in the sixth grade.) Once the pattern was finally cut out, Aunt G came over and showed me how to use the sewing machine, how to stitch seams, and how long of an edge to leave. I managed to get the basics done last night while the Ogre hovered around me taking pictures (\u201cto document your descent into housewifery\u201d), but unfortunately Aunt G neglected to show me how to finish an edge and do slipstitches and topstitches. I can\u2019t really blame her, since Liam spent almost our entire sewing lesson unplugging the machine, unraveling spools of thread, and trying to eat the pin-covered pincushion. Her attention was necessarily divided.<\/p>\n<table class=\"tr-caption-container\" style=\"margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;\" cellspacing=\"0\" cellpadding=\"0\" align=\"center\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-JOeLZg2ROks\/T8eZWmvt28I\/AAAAAAAABkc\/wwVmWO5Ie9g\/s1600\/Calah+sewing.jpg\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/4.bp.blogspot.com\/-JOeLZg2ROks\/T8eZWmvt28I\/AAAAAAAABkc\/wwVmWO5Ie9g\/s400\/Calah+sewing.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" width=\"298\" height=\"400\"><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td class=\"tr-caption\" style=\"text-align: center;\">Here\u2019s a mercifully blurry photo, in case you (and by you I mean everyone who\u2019s ever met me) also need photographic evidence that the apocalypse is nigh and hell has frozen over<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p>So today it looks like I\u2019ll be diving back into the wonderful world wide web to try and figure out how to finish this dress, while repeating mentally, <em>I will not swear. I will not swear. I will not swear.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>After that I\u2019ll be dashing off groveling apologies to the neighborhood mothers for when my six-year-old inevitably decides to make my many lapses in linguistic judgment public fodder for the neighborhood children.<\/p>\n<div class=\"separator\" style=\"clear: both; text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-R9gYbhptYwE\/T8eeOyATgQI\/AAAAAAAABlA\/MY_cvVjpXdk\/s1600\/little+girl+swearing.jpg\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-R9gYbhptYwE\/T8eeOyATgQI\/AAAAAAAABlA\/MY_cvVjpXdk\/s1600\/little+girl+swearing.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\"><\/a><\/div>\n<p>Maybe I should bake them cookies, too.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Well, I\u2019ll be going to confession this weekend. Yesterday I learned two important things about myself. First, I am not utterly hopeless and bereft when it comes to all household arts aside from cooking. Second, that creative bastion of colorful swear words that I gleefully collected in college was in fact not eradicated from my [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1110,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-52","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Adventures in Swearing Sewing<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Well, I&#039;ll be going to confession this weekend. Yesterday I learned two important things about myself. First, I am not utterly hopeless and bereft when it\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Adventures in Swearing Sewing\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Well, I&#039;ll be going to confession this weekend. Yesterday I learned two important things about myself. First, I am not utterly hopeless and bereft when it\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Barefoot and Pregnant\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2012-05-31T09:44:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2017-03-09T22:15:32+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"http:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/-pha4IQK2XF0\/T8eYKJlHGrI\/AAAAAAAABkU\/BWyMOjM8ru8\/s640\/memorable+confession.png\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Calah Alexander\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Calah Alexander\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"4 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing.html\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/2012\/05\/adventures-in-swearing-sewing.html\",\"name\":\"Adventures in Swearing Sewing\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/#website\"},\"datePublished\":\"2012-05-31T09:44:00+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2017-03-09T22:15:32+00:00\",\"author\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/barefootandpregnant\/#\/schema\/person\/cbd5af11d9f73881b801bf2e07eb8757\"},\"description\":\"Well, I'll be going to confession this weekend. 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