Yesterday I had some sort of creative brain spasm, which prompted me to undertake some sewing. Yes, sewing. I have gone through various creative “phases” in my life. When Rhubarb and Poss were small I sewed all of their clothing (I know, what was wrong with me?) and much of my own as well. I can’t say I was ever terribly good at it. Seams were always a bit wonky and I didn’t trouble myself with following patterns and pinning things too much. I was a bit of a maverick. Yes, a maverick seamstress. Anyhow, I became bored with that at some point and only sew now to adjust hems or make repairs really. A friend made me turn her maxi dress into a skirt last week and consequently my sewing machine was still on the dining room table and I lost all sense of reason.
I sewed some bed curtains for Pudding, so that he can pretend his bed is a tent. He is thrilled but it still didn’t stop him from coming into our bed at 2am. Then I sewed a new attachment blankie for Grub. Now, I had bought this gorgeous Alexander Henry fabric to make a blanket for her weeks ago (by which I mean prior to Christmas). I have been meaning to do something with it and lately she has taken to pulling out my hair as she drifts off to sleep. I couldn’t cope anymore. I am quite pleased with it actually. I paired with some purdy limey green satin for strokeability and she seems to like it enough to consider relinquishing her fistfuls of hair.
I have decided that, although the sewing was reasonably successful, it is actually a force for disharmony in my body. I has quite a sore pelvis last night and today I have been quite bad. I can see no other cause. It has to be the sewing, I have to make some small adjustments to her blankie and then I am burying the sewing machine in the linen cupboard and never getting it out again. I should be grateful I suppose, I am currently floating on a sea of pain free happy thoughts. I have taken the good painkillers. My doctor assures me that they are safe for breastfeeding and having consulted the Great Google, I can see that they are. However, I have irrational paranoias that I will cause Grub to grow a second head or that her brain will leak out of her ears so I never do. It all go too much for me this afternoon – a trip to playgroup and the supermarket left me barely able to walk – and I have allowed Beefcake to dose me with drugs. It is wonderful to be pain-free for a short while. I can move my hips in ways that are appropriate to a woman in her early thirties, not an arthritic octogenarian.
The only problem is, I am not that used to strange things in my system and it sends me a bit funny in the head.
I should not be allowed near my laptop, to interact with the outside world. I know this and yet, here I am.
Right, I;ve just read through that and I can see that it is about as coherent as a Neighbours plotline but I can not fathom how I would fix it. See?
I might go for a nice lie down.