Yesterday, I was at a fabric sale with friends ( which we affectionately refer to as a "F.A.R.T." (fabric acquiring road trip, for the uninitiated), and after holding some fabric over my left arm for about 15 minutes, I set the fabric down and noted pretty violent shaking of that arm for a while. My friends were slightly horrified (can one be slightly horrified?), but I just stared at my flailing arm in some shock as though I had never met that arm. I later started thinking of all the potential benefits of the involuntary shaking, such as:
Automatic drink mixer
Remove dust with no effort from the feather duster
Shaking cans of paint or spray glue
Emphasis for telling the dog or humans "No!"
Excuse for getting out of housework (Everything is an excuse for getting out of housework.)
Drawing squiggly lines (all my lines are squiggly anyway.)
Strumming a guitar
Dramatic eye makeup application
It's hard to look at most of our symptoms with humor, and I don't mean to make light of anyone's trials. But this is how I cope. How could you have fun with your symptoms?
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greaterexp
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I hate to be demanding, but if I supply the ribs, could you also throw in homemade strawberry cheesecake ice cream for dessert? For that, I'll ignore your wet pants.
You two really made me smile! I just thre a standing rib in the oven! Hell, with my numb feet I could have just strapped it to my feet and stood on a pile of burning charcoal for a few hours! The electric zaps from my knee, although much better, could have seared the outside! And greaterexp , with your shaking arm you could've sliced the veggies for the salad!
Your arm was protesting that you put down that fabric! Happens to me all the time! It's way of saying NOOOOO, don't put that one down, you're going to regret it, but it has no mouth, so it shakes! Just go with it and pick up the whole bolt and buy it! No one ever said that 'I wish that I didn't buy that fabric' No one ~ ever! Trust me on this one, I know.
By the way, my arm (leg, back) usually does that when I do cleaning chores, and I usually take the cue and stop!
Just some black solid and some neutrals for background. You’d be surprised at my restraint, but the prices were very unclear. I should have gone back, but my friends needed to go.
In would have never hurried you, because I would be the one still in the store, with you waiting at the door, wanting to leave. Most fabric stores are over a 1/2 hour away from my home, making it a special trip. But then there's the internet...
You're my kind of fabric shopper! This estate sale we went to made my friends and I laugh (a bit nervously, if truth be told), wondering if that sale represented what our own estate sales would look like when we die. There were thousands of yards of fabric of all kinds, plus notions, laces, rulers, a Pfaff quilting machine and frame, and you name it. I think there must not have been a hobby she didn't like.
Internet doesn't let you feel the fabric. Some synthetic fabrics irritate my skin and make my hair look like I stuck my finger in a light socket. I like to feel all the fabrics in the store.
So true. I don't buy much online because I can't tell what the hand is, the quality, or the real colors. It's almost impossible to match or coordinate with anything I already have.
Sorry, all you FARTers, but you're way above my pay grade. Wouldn't know what to do with a piece of fabric if it jumped up and bit me. I failed sewing twice in home ec in jr. high and high school. You remember, when girls were forced to take home ec and boys to take shop?
I took home ec for half the school year, then took shop for the other half. I loved both, and I too, didn't do well in home ec. Matter of fact, I couldn't sew a hem, so my mom did it for me. The teacher commented that the hem on my skirt should have been sewn with single thread and not double thread. No comment about anything else. Go figure. I did wear that skirt though. I love your comments, and you can certainly FART with the rest of us, Sukie427 , the more, the merrier!
I failed cooking because I didn't know how many tbs. were in a stick of butter. Then I realized that they were marked on the side of the butter wrapper so why did it matter??? I failed sewing because I had to make a skirt and blouse. The blouse got made only because my mom and a neighbor up the street who knew how to use a sewing machine finished it for me. But I couldn't wear it because by the time they finished it it was too tight on me. The other pile of fabric never did evolve into a skirt or even get unfolded! And at the time I went, girls were not allowed to take shop and boys weren't allowed to take home ec. I did give my husband a crash course, though, when one of my earliest cases was in San Francisco (we lived in DC then) and I left him home alone with the dog for a week! Want dinner, pal? Cook it yourself!
I tried to teach myself to sew when I was a newlywed. How hard could it be? I had a pattern after all, right? I wouldn't have worn that thing in public if I had been paid. I was ashamed to give it to Goodwill, so it's in a landfill somewhere. I finally took a little class a few years later, and it was as though a lightbulb went on. I think we have to be ready AND have a patient teacher!
I once made matching jumpers for my two daughters and myself for Christmas. I also made nightgowns and caps for the girls when they were 3 and 4. They looked like they stepped off the set of Little House on the Prarie! So cute. I need to start sewing for my granddaughter...
I've been accused of having convenient amnesia...well...sometimes that's true...you wanted me to get what at the grocery store while I was there???? Sometimes it's something I never wanted to get....sometimes I genuinely forgot...It wasn't on the list.
We'd be broke, for sure. My husband is almost worse than I am. We'll go into a fabric store for me to find a coordinating fabric (just one), and he'll bring me 20 fabrics that he likes, and ask, "Couldn't you do something with these?" Yes, I could. That's how my stash became out of hand.
I LOVE your sense of humor. If we can't laugh at this we would be lost. Hay, as one fabricholic to another did you get it? Maybe your arm is a divining rod telling you what works.
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