I made this happy mushroom applique shirt over the last couple of days. When I cut out the mushroom fabric I did not allow enough seam allowance to iron the edges down properly and ended up with some trouble. Trouble continued as I attempted to use the zig zag stitch on my Ye Olde Sewing Machine. The zig zag just never works. Probably the issue is the tension, and, as suggested by Angelina after my last post, I should get it checked out. However, I think it just is what it is. What it is is a Singer that my mother bought me at Woolworth's back when there was a Woolworth's on 8th St. in the Village. If you remember when this was, then you know how long ago this machine was purchased. Add to the age of the machine the fact that I bought it at Woolworth's, and that may explain why the zig zag never quite works out. Within two seconds of using the zig zag on the large mushroom, the machine had sucked the T-shirt into the slot under the needle and built a mound of thread to render it nearly impossible to remove the shirt from the machine.
After resolving never to use the zig zag again I straight stitched the mushroom heads on to the shirt and then embroidered around the edges to camoflauge where their seams were not deep enough to cover the raw edges. Clearly I need to perfect this design before I can sell it anywhere, but it still came out cute enough for Harlan to wear. In the photo of him he is saying hi on his imaginary cell phone.
Last night Joe and I went out for our date night (the second of 2007 despite to resolution to make it a monthly occurence). Luckily our friend and neighbor Salina babysat for us. In exchange I will sit for them one night whey they want to go out for dinner or to a movie. I have been pretty good about finding free babysitters so far. I have yet to pay for any. If I had to pay $10 an hour plus car fare home for someone to watch Harlan for an evening then it's already a night we can't afford. Anyhow, across from my house and right next to Salina's house is a stoop that is perpetually littered with stoop sitters. They are often drunk and yelling at one another, both from next to each other on the stoop and from stoop to window up above. Salina and I love to recreate their world every chance we get. For instance, if I am walking down the street and she sees me out her window, she will throw open her window and holler at me in part Spanish- part faux-drunken jibberish. I will yell back the same way.
Last week I was walking up the block around the corner and saw Salina ahead of me pushing Mattie in the stroller. I sped up, leaning on my own stroller and began to call out to her, "Hey! Mira Puta! Muy sexy! Muy sexy!" Then I continued with some loud tooth sucking noises that some of you may be familiar with if you have ever been a woman walking down a street in a city. Here's the punchline, when she turned around, it wasn't Salina at all. The woman held her hand to her chest and looked at me as if to say, "who me?" And I began to immediately apologize, explaining that her hair looked just like my friend's, and her stroller is the same one my friend has. She turned around and kept walking before listening to even one word. I have to say I wasn't quite as embarrassed as I should have been because I was pushing a baby in a stroller which somehow legitimizes my offensive behavior. Doesn't it?