Spit and Polish

Spit and Polish

Apart from a short early run today, it has been something of an almost back to normal day at home for me. First some office work to be done. That means that I will be sitting at the computer as Steve tells me what he needs done. There was nothing stressful to do at all, just a few messages and another few things that need to be typed. Steve and I have different area’s that we can manage computer wise, but the main difference is that he needs me to do the typing since it would take him forever plucking one letter out of the sky at a time. Of course when you have no interest in learning a basic skill like typing, it is harder or when it comes right down to it; just plain impossible, it ain’t gonna happen. My typing speed is not marvellous and I do have to check everything but, because I like to write I have found my own way. I like to keep up with my friends and seem to be incapable of sending a short email note, so most quick lines from me will be getting on for a page. 

After about an hour of office jobs, Steve left for work at our warehouse where he is packing the first container packing job we have had in for over four months, thank you very much for nothing Covid 19. This work, is to ship goods that have been in storage there for a long time. Like so many other small businesses, this period of time has been quite disastrous for us. Steve has been going to the warehouse a couple of times per week during the LD and has used this dreadful damaging time, as many other business people have, to have a good sort out and tidy up and a bit of a spring clean. He even found the Muscular and Skeletal wall chart that I had been asking him to bring home to go on the turbo room door. He found it behind a stack of packing materials.

My morning continued with a repair to one of our sitting room curtain that has suffered an age ripe rip. They are big heavy curtains and so I made the repair standing up at the window and now it looks much neater. I don’t sew as well as I did when I was younger due to a bit of arthritis but even though things take a little longer and may not be perfection I probably am a better seamstress than many ladies these day. Making your own clothes and doing repairs has gone out of date, it is a throw away world as well as a new, new, new spending world.

I have nearly always got something on the go handiwork wise. My mother taught me to use a sewing machine and gave me her old treadle when I was a teenager, she had bought a brand new modern electric sewing machine on the never-never. As a child, when Mum was making an item of clothing for me, she would make me help her. That way I learned all about cutting out, the use of pins and charged with some of the tacking and trimming. My dancing schools, (I went to one for ballet and another one for tap acrobatics and modern dance) were always telling mothers what costume would be required for festivals and concerts. Mum searched the jumble sales for clothes that could be taken to pieces and re-modelled into a tap dancing outfit. I remember the awful challenging times of her struggling to make ballet tutu’s. She got very bad tempered but in truth, she was nothing short of brilliant at that sort of thing, my outfits were much admired.

Now in her shadow, I currently have, three pairs of light summery trousers cut out right now, all from the same pattern. One pair is almost finished just a little bit of hand stitching left before they are done. The next pair is half done, all in one piece with some detail to work on. The third pair is basically just about put together but no over-locking done and without the waistband attached. I also have a dress cut out but still attached to the tissue pattern. You would not believe that pile of material I have stock piled in a cupboard. Call me a nightmare if you please, Steve does all the time. I admit it. I am a nightmare.

I was thinking about my mother only yesterday. She died in Worthing Hospital from renal failure in July 1986. You never forget your mother you know. Mine was a bit of a tyrant and would slap me as look at me as a kid, but she would kill anybody else who tried to harm me. 

I cannot believe that it is so long since she died and even longer since she spat on her hankie to wash my face if we were out somewhere where I should be clean and tidy. These days there are baby wipes for that purpose. I realised recently that my cat does not like baby wipes and so I presume babies don’t reckon much to them either. Since we have been confined to the house for the most part, I have taken to spitting on a tissue to wipe the cat’s eyes for her, and I can tell you for absolute certainty which she prefers. She always complained and struggled with the baby wipes but doesn’t even raise a little paw when I use the spit and clean method. Thanks Mum for all you did for me.