It was the right thing to do, gathering all my toys on the couch. Sitting among them, I could decide which one to start working on.
It was the crocheted person I'd rescued from SP thrift store, who was a tube from the neck down. She looked like a formless washer woman, akin to those dolls whose crocheted lower-halves cover toilet paper rolls.
I gave her a neck and arms, with hands tucked into white trousers-- formerly a huge circular skirt. I sewed leatherette rounds on the bottoms of her legs, so she stands up. With shirt buttons, belt bead, and a vintage button bow tie, she's a dapper doll.
Here's a laptop photo:
And this is what my couch looks like now:
It makes me happy and proud.
I was shocked when a neighbor came by this morning, saw me sewing the doll, and said, "Watch out you don't turn into one of those old ladies with so many toys you can't sit on your couch."
I said, "But, I'd be OK being that!"
What is this impulse to clean up?
My sister emailed last night that she'd brought back our father's (once our mother's) sewing basket for me, as I'd asked, which is very nice, but then she said,
"And I just went through it and got rid of all the tangled threads and things."
Nooooooo! I wrote right back, asking her to get them out of the trash, if possible: "Those thread nests are one the wonderful, unique things you can't find anywhere except in old sewing baskets."
Thankfully, she could and did rescue them.
Whew!
"Now you say it," she said, "I can see how lovely they are."
Yes.
It was the crocheted person I'd rescued from SP thrift store, who was a tube from the neck down. She looked like a formless washer woman, akin to those dolls whose crocheted lower-halves cover toilet paper rolls.
I gave her a neck and arms, with hands tucked into white trousers-- formerly a huge circular skirt. I sewed leatherette rounds on the bottoms of her legs, so she stands up. With shirt buttons, belt bead, and a vintage button bow tie, she's a dapper doll.
Here's a laptop photo:
I was shocked when a neighbor came by this morning, saw me sewing the doll, and said, "Watch out you don't turn into one of those old ladies with so many toys you can't sit on your couch."
I said, "But, I'd be OK being that!"
[watch this space]
What is this impulse to clean up?
My sister emailed last night that she'd brought back our father's (once our mother's) sewing basket for me, as I'd asked, which is very nice, but then she said,
"And I just went through it and got rid of all the tangled threads and things."
Nooooooo! I wrote right back, asking her to get them out of the trash, if possible: "Those thread nests are one the wonderful, unique things you can't find anywhere except in old sewing baskets."
Thankfully, she could and did rescue them.
Whew!
"Now you say it," she said, "I can see how lovely they are."
Yes.
I thought it was a guy and I was going to suggest you call him Dapper Dan. Since he is a she, maybe Dapper Danielle?
ReplyDeleteBlessings on you for rescuing toys. I always think of "The Velveteen Rabbit" when I read your posts about salvaging/saving toys.
Yeah, I don't know what gender or sex the toys are--I guess it's up to the beholder. Or it changes.
ReplyDeleteRed Bear used to be a he, but then she was a she...
Who knows!?
So much less important and confusing than with humans. :)
Thanks for your encouragement. It's a small but cheering thing to do! XO
Whew, about the thread nest rescue. That doll with hands apocket (keruoac) is too wonderful. I think our couches are twins or at least cousin twins, mine is all over embroidery thread.
ReplyDeleteHurrah for the rescue. She's adorable! Only one couch?? I have one to sit on for working from and one for finished things so I can admire them and an old table in the corner for WIPs! Aren'tall homes like that?
ReplyDelete