Day six of my sewing conquest. Back to the linen cupboard I go, this time targeting a king-size sheet. Step one: iron out two weeks' worth of tightly crumpled fabric-box wrinkles. After ironing it for almost an entire episode of what was playing in the background, I had a beautifully ironed sheet.
My friend popped by to drop off my Singer machine as she had kindly picked it up off the postie while I was on holiday!
After the excitement of my new Singer machine, which came with its original threads, I went back to my crisp sheet. I started to do a little more research and Googled the length for Will's size, immediately hit a wall of what felt like theoretical physics, and after much mathematical despair, finally pinned down the numbers.
Back to my sheet I went again, this time armed with a magic pen that disappears when heat is added, my trusty cardboard ruler, and my measuring tape. After an embarrassing failed solo wrestling mission of trying to lay a king-sized sheet flat on the floor, I admitted defeat and drafted Will into manual labour.
One apron fold measured, then it was time for the pleats. With the front apron measured, it was time for the pleats. What followed was a gruelling, three-and-a-half-hour saga of measuring, drawing a line, questioning my life choices, re-measuring, and pinning. Fifteen pleats in, I hit a hard stop: I am officially out of fabric and completely out of pins. Tomorrow’s agenda involves emergency hand-stitching the top of the kilt together and reclaim my pins for the remaining eleven pleats.
Send help. Or more pins.
