
Stood watching the sunset. Two thoughts crossed my mind.
One… what a stunning sunset. Developed without warning and only lasted a few minutes. It’s the sort of sunset that would have made my partner so happy.
Two… bloody hell my fingers hurt.
You get towards the end of the school year with the once extensive school uniform reserves drained to drought levels. Down to one of each item and they have seen much better days. Sizing is probably about two sizes to small and really they are just a collections of holes held together by a few resilient fibres. Just got to make them last two more weeks. That reminds me – I had better start saving for next terms uniform replenishment. Bet that’s cheap!!!
It maybe only two weeks but you can almost see what’s left of the clothes disintegrating in the air. It’s time for drastic action. It’s time for emergency patching. Unfortunately sewing comes as naturally to me as veganism comes to Donald Trump. I am useless. Always have been, always will be. Up to two years ago that wasn’t a problem. My partner loved darning and out would come the sewing box with such glee. My mum was also an expert in the dark sewing arts. Those days have gone now.
So now it’s down to me. Houston we have a problem. So out came my partners sewing box. A result a couple of useable patches ready to go. How hard can this really be. So a fine looking needle was selected. Several different types of thread to go for. Helpfully each has a number 60, 70, 75, 80 – what the hell does that mean – is it size, age, weight, tensile strength. Let’s go for 60 as it’s black. We then start to put the thread through the needle eye. T***, f***, s***, b******, buggerations. I might as well of been trying to give a cheesed off Honey Badger a haircut. One hour it took me, one hour of my life wasted on that instrument of torture.
Then I started to attach the patch to the trouser knee hole. The sodding thread falls out of the needle. So we start again. Two coffees later we have a needle and thread ready to go again. Now the needle won’t go through the patch. What is it made of – bullet proof armour. Eventually I punch through but with so much force that the needle eye has embedded into my finger. Blood everywhere. After a plaster has been applied I continue. Not once, not twice maybe six times the needle struggles to get through the patch but once through it passes through my finger skin with such ease. In the end my fingers resembles Spongebob Squarepants’s backside. Holes everywhere.
But finally the job is done. The patch is secured and doesn’t look too bad. Quite pleased with that. THEN. Oh for f*** sake, oh come on!!!!
In hindsight it might not have been a great idea to push the needle not only through the front of the trousers but then through the back of the trousers as well. Great work. Now the left trouser leg is completely sewn tight at the knee. What’s the kid supposed to do – hop to school, pirate style.
Don’t think badly of me. After I unpicked the stitching I decided to stick the patch on with superglue. Let’s hope it doesn’t rain.
So yes it’s a wonderful sunset but my fingers are so much more redder…