This Week Blew By

Friday already? I almost missed it. Here it is, 8 p.m. on Friday and not a word have I written (except the twenty-three preceding this). I’ve been busy. Jessie turned 35 – my baby! Wednesday she and grandkids Cody and Liadan celebrated here with me. It was a smaller gathering than we would typically have, but happily, the cake was full sized.

After the cake and ice cream, I shooed Jessie and the kids off, and returned to mask making – thirty to be made in response to a request precipitated by the governor’s mandate that all essential workers wear masks at work; however, ready-made masks are no where to be found. And, so I, super-mask-maker answered the call for help. I put on a mask (like all of those other super heroes), rushed off to Walmart to buy a 100% cotton sheet (fabric stores remain closed), elastic and seam binding (both typically available at Walmart). Sheets were available, but the shelves that should contain elastic and seam binding were as empty as the shelves that should contain ready-made masks.

I returned home, sheet in hand. While the sheet was in the wash, I scrounged through my shelves, that probably should be less encumbered with who-knows-what, in search of elastic and seam binding. I had plenty of elastic hair ties that many people have used for ear loops when making masks, but since these masks were to be worn by men, who often have big heads (feel free to interpret that literally or figuratively) I knew that I would have to use real elastic. I was able to find elastic and various colors of seam binding in sewing supplies that good-buddy-Shari’s family had given me after clearing out their family home before their mother, Norma, moved to an assisted-living facility. Thank you Norma, Shari and family! With a rainbow of seam binding, I realized conformity was no longer an option for the final mask product. Undeterred, I started cutting, folding, pressing and sewing thinking that I would finish up that night. At 1 a.m., I realized that quality, like conformity, was no longer an option, and I staggered to bed.

Thursday arrived bright and early. My appearance was neither bright, nor early. At around noon, I returned to mask making. At 11 p.m. I again surrendered. Today, my sewing machine and I, with no heroics, feebly finished the task. The masks are not beautiful. As I’ve said many times, I value function over form. I sure hope the finished masks are functional. I’m actively promoting a rumor that the uglier the mask, the more protection it provides.

The seam ripper is my friend.
Cinnamon is sick of the sound of the sewing machine.

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