|Why I will never have silk drapes, so long as there are cats|
A few years later the crib came to rest in our room. This required placing our bed against the window wall. Now my pooling drapes were subject to the ignominy of being tied into a knot so that they wouldn't lie, resplendent-like, across my partner's face as he slept.
The bigger issue for me was that in their knotted state the drapes wouldn't close. And while I like to think of myself as a sharing kind of person, the neighbours started to drop subtle hints that they weren't enjoying the view.
In shortening the drapes, I figured, both the issues of appearance and length would be addressed. On the night that I chose to undertake this task, my pre-schooler was sick with a virus and planted in my bed with a video, and my under-one was protesting his being dumped in his highchair to watch mummy in action. (Our two toddlers were on their way home from the grandparents'.)
|Baby helping mummy with the measuring tape|
Having already committed several cardinal sins against the art of sewing, I jumped recklessly to the foot peddle and began stitching, making the fold and turning under the hem as the needle punctured the fabric. By this time, the baby was mewling at a constant rate, and the four-year-old calling at 30 second intervals for me to come upstairs. I felt the pressure of a sprinter dashing to the finish line with moaning, squealing ghouls nipping at my heels.
|Big fold of fabric? No problem, it's on the back side!|
|The finished product, back in place. Not too bad, eh?|