Every Day is Like Sunday


It’s a long weekend in Sydney, so while it feels like a gorgeous sunny Sunday, it’s actually a gorgeous sunny Monday. Which means tomorrow will feel like Monday even though it’s Tuesday. Why must work ruin perfectly fabulous weekends, long, short or otherwise?

I don’t say this to just anyone, so will you promise to keep something between you and I? I am a woman with too much fabric, and too much yarn.  Most of the time I’m a responsible adult but when there’s a yarn or fabric sale on, well I lose my mind a little. It’s all become a little overwhelming of late, and so my wonderful mother sacrificed a weekend, schlepped down to Sydney and conducted an intervention.  We went through the box of fabric scraps, and threw most of it out – I can’t throw vintage floral scraps out, I just can’t. We went through boxes of yarn, some knitted and frogged and wound into scrappy little balls, others still with ball bands intact. And then we pulled the suitcases from underneath the bed.  And this is where my mother showed strength of character – she did not judge.  There were half knitted cardigans, almost finished short sleeve jumpers, finished jumpers that were too big, and more balls of black and red cotton 8 ply than I will dare admit to owning, and a cotton hexagon blanket that is almost sewn together. The hallway became a repository for things for goodwill (a mountain of it that was a fire hazard at one stage).  Cardigans that don’t flatter were unpicked and rewound into gorgeous cakes of cotton. Hexagon cotton blankets were bagged up for a local church group.  Balls and balls and balls and balls of yarn were put into brown paper bags to be sent to new homes, hopefully to women who will love them as much as I once did. And then we both collapsed in an exhausted heap under a pile of frogged yarn, ate brownies and decided to attack the fabric stash the next time Groovie Mommie’s back in the City.

And it felt so good.  I felt like I’d lost weight, or become taller.  All those half-finished projects that I’d fallen out of love with are now on their way to new homes to be taken to someone else’s heart. I love the craft life, but sometimes being responsible for producing your own clothing can become a burden. But after three days hard work I feel clearer with the projects I still have, but also inspired about projects to come. Just in time for Spring. I hope wherever in the world you are, that your weekend has been just as productive, and your imagination runs wild!



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