Curtains, curtains, everywhere...

I am bloody exhausted by that unmentionable sewing machine.  However, my immediate task for earning the machine has been completed.

For these curtains, I had to go from the top.  The fabric was too fragile for me to pick out the hem, though I tried for a long while. I did not want to do extra math to figure out how to remake the curtain rod pocket whilst fitting the two curtains to the window.

These are the curtains I see the most upstairs, aside from the ones in my bedroom.  I am most happy that they finally are properly fitted.  Mostly.

All of the too long curtains in the solarium posed a problem.  I spent far too long trying to figure out which way would be easier.  Top or bottom??

I mean, there are 1,001 of these curtains, and looking at them, I saw how dirty the bottoms were.  I really wanted to figure out how to simply lop off the dirt in the process.  But my life is not that easy.

The best way was to cut away the top curtain rod pocket.  This is the pile of those old curtain rod pockets that Amos did not drag about the house as he played with them.

I think that by interior design standards, I should have made these a mere 1.5 inches off the floor.  But that would have meant picking out the hem to shorten them and the fabric would have had lots and lots and lots of pinholes left in it.  And I would still be working on them in March ... or April.

So, I am living with the height that resulted from cutting the top and recreating a two-inch curtain rod pocket.  Of course, I totally resented the curtains for making me wash, dry, and iron them all before hanging them back up.  The ones not pictured (between the far bed and the wall) might possibly be a tad less ironed since the bottom bits are hidden from the casual eye.  Most folk would not pull out the bed and look at the bottoms of the curtains.  Most.

I thought I would take a photo of my grandmother's pin cushion from when she was a girl and mine from 8th grade home economics.  I like my grandmother's better.  By the way, I somehow managed to break/bend several pins during the fitting of all the curtains.  I also had to rescue one from Amos' mouth.  SIGH.

Having downsized the majority of stuff from my life and my home, I have this rather firm policy that anything coming into the home must have a space readied for it or something must leave to make room.  Happily, the sewing machine fits into the deacon's bench.  That means that I do not need to lug it to and from either upstairs or the basement, which would have been the floors for likely storage spots.

Last fall, when I was selling anything and everything possible to pay for my technology upgrades, one of the things I rather reluctantly sold was my large-volume shop-vac with a pump on it.  The small shop vac that I had gotten for the wood floors and subsequently used during the kitchen construction had been in the deacon's bench.  But, when I had to replace the aged vacuum, I moved the mini-shop vac to the basement utility closet where the monster one used to be because the new Dyson works beautifully on the wood floors.  And I keep it on the main floor.

Also, during some upsettedness this past summer, I spent some time re-evalutating everything that I keep in the deacon's bench.  So, there was a good amount of room in there.  Whilst I am usually rather skilled at knowing what will fit in a space (a genetic gift from my interior designer mother), I was not sure the sewing machine would go in the deacon's bench.  In fact, I did not even consider that as a storage spot until I started breaking down all the sewing work stuff that had taken over my dining room and dreading hauling the machine about the house.  As I said, happily, the sewing machine fits upright in the deacon's bench with room to spare!  I also put in the table attachment (in its flat box), the power cord, the pedal, and the small basket of supplies.  Surprisingly, the deacon's bench is still not ... crowded ... if you open it up and look inside.

I am very, very, very exhausted, since my can't-let-it-go self plowed through fitting all those curtains. But I am also very, very, very thankful to finally have the garish and gauche curtain drapage and pooling and generally spilling over gone from my second floor.  Visual rest abounds in my home!!

My mother did point out that what is bothering me about the curtain on the airing porch door is that it is too wide for the rod, that the fabric is not one that ... bunches ... well.  She suggested that I either split the curtain and remove some fabric down the middle or cut it down one side.  Either way, the curtain(s) would then fit better with the rest of the room and on the rod.  I almost decided to try and tackle that, but the problem is that I would not know how to ... hem ... the cut portion of the curtain rod pocket if I cut it.  I like the idea of two panels that just fit the window and are kept pushed to either side.  However, I think that such an adventurous project should be for some sewing visitor who comes and has a desire to tackle a challenge.  After all, I now have a sewing machine handy.

My mother said that, once finished, if I wanted to sell the sewing machine she bought, it would not hurt her feelings.  She primarily wanted that garishness and gaucheness gone.  I am tempted.  After all, I bet I could get a fair price for a slightly used computerized sewing machine that threads its own needle (the only process I got in the first attempt).  Plus, I could offer to teach the person how to thread the bloody thing.  I mean, what else will I sew???  For now, I thought I would merely stow the machine and all its bits away so that I could have my dining room back.

I have missed my dining room.
Amos has missed me.

All throughout the sewing process, from time to time, Amos would come over and jump and jump and jump until I caught him and held him.  He would relax against me and start to fall asleep as he chastised me for neglecting him.  It was hard ... very hard ... to put him back down each time.  He really did not understand why I went to all that bother with the curtains.  I tried to explain, but sometimes my puppy-speak fails me.

I had a fire for most of the day, yesterday, to soothe me as I wrestled with the curtains.  I want one now that I am finished, but I think I am too tired to fetch the wood and build it.  The short journey to the back porch is a bit beyond me.  Sewing takes entirely too much standing, because it takes entirely too much ironing.

I loathe ironing.

In the space of a week or so, the batteries to my scale, door bell button, door bell, blood pressure monitor, pulse oximeter, two smoke alarms, and the Roku remote all died.  I felt like there was this battery conspiracy going on.  It was ... nice ... to be able to buy a 1,001 replacement batteries without worrying about the added cost.  Being in catastrophic coverage for my medications is the least financially stressful time of the past four years.  I am sad that it ends December 31st, and I go back to near impossible budget math.

Thinking about medications, I decided to not upgrade my eyeballs just yet.  Whilst I would really like a new prescription, I have not been able to figure out just how much it is going to cost to take the erythromycin pills for the year.  By that I mean, I am going to enter the donut hole much sooner, thus facing the more-than-half-my-income prescription bill at Target much sooner.  What I cannot figure out is if I will enter the catastrophic coverage in October, just one month earlier, or in September.  And I cannot figure out what the annual cost of all the medication will be so that I can try to balance it out over all twelve months.  Thus, I decided to take the tiniest of cushions from the medication savings last month and this into the next year.  I definitely do not want to wait until the Fall to upgrade my eyeballs, but I think it would be prudent to wait until I see just how fast I fall into that blasted donut hole.  This year, it was June, I think.  I fear it might be as early as March.

Math stinks.
Medication math.
Sewing math.

SIGH.

At least the curtains are done, eh?