The joy of make do and mend
|Ace tea towel from www.pintuck.co.uk|
My husband had been plaintively asking if I would sew a button on his coat for a week or two, sometimes adding a faux-consumptive cough to emphasise the dangers of a chill to the chest. Now, he is a modern man and could do this for himself if he needed to, but I do like to do it. It just took a bit longer, is all.
Then I mended a tear in the knee of my son's lovely soft navy moleskin trousers, which was very pleasing as they have sat in the pile for AGES and he is a bit short of trews just now.
And then I began a darn in the sleeve of a sheer-knit black Boden v-neck jumper which I love and which has worn thin in places due to my obsession with wearing it at all times unless it's in the wash. I have one of those fab old wooden 'mushroom' forms to aid darning. It used to be my granny's and I feel very connected with her when I use it. The darn isn't finished yet as I ran out of time, but is next to me now for tomorrow. I may even pop it into my handbag to finish on the train into work. I sometimes sit near a woman on the way home who crochets on the train. She uses very odd wool and the resulting pieces have no discernable use or anything really to recommend them aesthetically, but I admire her nonetheless.
I find that doing this kind of slightly old-fashioned but very useful work is very restful. As each piece is finished, knotted off and folded away, I get a real sense of completion and satisfaction. This is something that my paying day job often doesn't include, so it's a good rest cure.
The Matterhorn mending pile is slightly smaller today. I feel faintly smug and victorious.