You Reap What You Sew

 

Realtor's photo: think pink!

My newfound resolve to look on the bright side (Innovation and Eggface) has hit a snag this week: I'm sewing.

The previous owners of our place very graciously left the curtains and blinds in the living room. They couldn't have chosen things I would hate more if they had known me for my entire life.

The major color is mauve. My friends, relatives, and the world all know that pink is my least favorite color and mauve the hue most likely to induce me to hurl. On top of that torture, the flounces and lace are more country cute than country me.

So for the past 2 years I've been meaning to replace them and this month finally ordered supplies to make Roman shades.

This seems like a good time to take a side trip and discuss the issue of buying locally. Many well-meaning folks swear that the salvation of our nation is to purchase needs and wants within a limited radius of your domicile. The theory sounds good, but like most philosophies that will fit on a bumper sticker, implementing it is difficult.

Take making window covering for instance. The closest fabric store to Lick Skillet is over 60 miles away and then it's a chain that carries mostly items from China and most probably would not have drapery cord or shade pulls or the other bits and bobs I need. And studying our other online purchases for the past year, I note we have bought such disparate items as organic wheat berries, pewter metallic paint, and vintage movies, none of which we could buy within 4 or 5 counties of Lick Skillet. Ordering online for us is a better use of time and resources. If we have to travel to the nearest metropolitan area to shop, not only do we rarely find what we want, we also increase our carbon footprint with the gas used and we have to go out for lunch which hurts our wallets and our waistlines. Mini-rant over.

Back to sewing.

I have sewn shades before, at least partly successfully. This time there seems to be a conspiracy to ensure that this is the last fiber project I ever attempt. Everything has gone wrong and the air has a blue tinge from my vocabulary (I bet Tom didn't even realize I knew all of those words). 

This should be simple. A Roman shade is really just a rectangle but no matter how many times I carefully measure, the sides don't add up. I think maybe math has changed since I last made these.
 
One shade is finally completed (but not the valance).

Before I got the cleats to hold the cord.

But we have 4 windows!
  
 If I live through this project I will never boast about my sang froid again.