Thursday, May 28, 2009

But first, a word from necessity…

I have a store-bought clothespin bag…wait. Let me rephrase that. I had a store-bought clothespin bag. The dumb thing has shredded, and not only did it dump my clothespins all over the yard (lovely), it is now dispensing a sticky bright blue powder onto everything it touches. GAH! Cheap piece of @*^&@ I mean REALLY!, it's not even that old (although admitted it was left out in the elements a few times too many, mostly because my clothesline never comes down and almost always has something hanging on it)!

My very first thought was, Drat, I'm going to need to buy a new bag.

My second thought was, I can't believe you just thought that. BUY a new bag? What kind of attitude is THAT? You can totally MAKE a new bag, probably with something already lying around the house.

My third, fourth…twenty-seventh thoughts were all around things like past trauma from attempting sewing projects, interspersed with enthusiastic ideas that made good use of ruined jeans – of which I have a bounty fit for a rather thread-bare king. (Which I still think would work just fine, if I weren't genetically incapable of sewing fabric together without attaching my thumb permanently to the finished [and now bloody] object or breaking the needles on my sewing machine.) (I broke a needle on silk once. Silk! And I still don't know how I managed it…)

And then I suddenly thought, Waitasecond…what about all that worsted weight cotton you've been making washcloths out of like a madwoman lately?

Sturdy 100% cotton…wears like iron (I've got kitchen towels I made ten years ago out of this stuff that are still going strong)…good stitch definition…machine washable…hmmmm

Now, there are several ways one could go about this. One could, for example, whip together a simple bag in something like, eh, four hours and be done. It's a clothespin bag, for carp's sake, not an heirloom piece I expect to be donated to the Smithsonian.

That would be sensible.

So naturally, I'm pouring through my cable books because why go with simple, if you could instead encrust the thing with cables? Why spend just a couple nights-while-watching-the-news making a new bag, when I could instead turn this into a forty-seven cuss Monster Project, complete with multiple rip-backs and perhaps a few more math problems than I already have, which is plenty, thank you.

Sigh. Honestly, I don't know what to do with me either…(but seriously, I think this is going to be a kewl little bag…)


ellipsisknits said...

Phew, cabling kitchen cotton? I do not envy you at all.

How about a nice slip-stitch pattern?

Anonymous said...

Do. Not. Cable. Kitchen. Cotton.

(I tried, once, and it put me off knitting for 10 years!)

MNLacer said...

Until this master piece is completed, do you have an empty, one gallon plastic jug (bleach or milk carton, perhaps others)? Cut out a bit of the lower handle so it can be hung from the clothes line, and a convenient hand-sized opening in the upper portion opposite the handle. Fill with clothes pins/pegs and get along!

Unknown said...

I am always bewildered (completely) by you utterly talented AMAZING knitters who howl with terror at a simple sewing project. I'm still (like, 3 months later) knitting a mistake rib knit scarf to match my pumpking hat from last fall and yet I can whip out sewing projects with apparent ease in minutes. Why, oh why, do these two fibery arts seem so very different from each other? ~~jo in AK

Caitlan said...

japanese warriors used layers of silk to stop arrows, so the needle breaking thing has a solid precedent.

PipneyJane said...

I second the vote for creatively recycling the milk jug.

- Pam

Anonymous said...

I remember my mom using the plastic jug clothespin holder. I'm using an old Easter Basket. It doesn't hang from the clothesline, but I have to bend over to pick the clothing out of the basket, so I pick out the pins at the same time. The clothespins live in the house with me because I use them for everything.

RobinH said...

Usually what breaks needles is an inadvertant tug on the fabric. The needle (not being very strong), is pulled sideways and hits the edge of the machine, and *snap*.

If it happens a lot, going up a needle size will probably help. Also, arranging the sewing area so the project you're working on is supported (and thus not tugging at the needle) will also help.