Found that I was missing a button on one of my best pair of shorts. Dang! That means I have to either throw them away or fix it. Okay they aren't the best shorts I own, but they really are one of my favourite pair. I've had them for at least ten years. They are loose and soft and comfy and only a little frayed around the edges. And it's just replacing a button after all. Oh dear. That means I am going to have to sew.
One of the truth in the universe types of basic Sam-knowledge is that I do not sew. I'm not the only person who claims that to be true. Everyone who has ever seen me attempt to sew agrees. Sam don't sew.
My 7th grade Home Ec teacher was one of the first people to say it out loud. In fact, she said it so loudly and clearly, that I was asked the leave the class and sent to art instead. I wasn't any better at art, but at least nobody got hurt and nothing got broken. It was an accident, we all agreed upon that. But still and all, a sewing machine was broken and my finger was bleeding so, art class.
But life happens and occasionally one is called upon to sew. I don't know why it is that I cannot sew. My sister can. She is a sewing wiz. When she has the time and space, she can sew rings around anyone. My Nana could sew. She could make anything out of anything else! Curtains from besheets? No problem. One kind of dress out of a different kind of dress without a pattern? In a flash. And all leftovers scraps into a quilt.
But somehow I did not get the sewing gene. So it was with no small amount of trepidation that I approached this task.
First I sorted through my meager sewing box searching for supplies. Thread, check...replacement button, check, sewing needles, eventually, check. Bandaids...no check! Ack! Where are the bandaids? Every sewing box should be supplied with an ample supply of bandaids.
Well suffice it to say, that I got the job done. And with a minimum of bloodshed. The needle was threaded in under 15 minutes (a new world record!) and the button replaced. It's on fairly securely and ought to last at least a few washings before I have to do it again. And, I'm fairly certain that no one will look askance at the job done..... As long as they do not see the other side of the job. Do not look at the back of the button. I said, step away from the back of the button. Ratz. Too late. You looked. You saw it, didn't you?
(Sigh) I do not understand why this skill eludes me. This was a very basic thing. Everyone, man or woman, should know how to sew a simple stitch. Repair a hem, replace a button, very first level stuff. And yet, I do not seem to be able to do so.
Now real sewing, creating with needle and thread, now that is a skill. It's artistry. It's like magic to me. And I am in awe of anyone who can do it. A person who buys a dress knowing that the length is wrong, but says, "no worries, I can fix that" and then they do and it look amazing...well my hat is off to you! People who make gifts, "I saw you admiring that cute little apron, so I thought I would make one for you". That totally wows me. I could no more do that than I could fly to the moon.
I know I have abilities just as I know that sewing is not among them. But despite that fact; despite getting tossed out of home economics in the 7th grade; despite my Nana shaking her head at my sewing attempts; despite the snorts of laughter and finger pointings at my sad attempts; despite it all, I sewed that doggone button back on!!
It's not exactly Neil Armstrong's first step on the moon, or the invention of the lightbulb, but I'm proud of myself just the same. Just don't look at the back of the button. That's going to have to be the rule.
Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.