Well, this weekend was a complete washout, so I had to shelve all my gardening plans (I stupidly invited my garden club to "tour" my "garden," all five square yards of it, so my standing weekend plans are weed and plant, weed and plant).
Since I could neither weed nor plant, I broke out the sewing machine, the one my hubby very sweetly gave me for Christmas. In a perfect world, I would like to be able to make most of my own clothes, because I loathe shopping and I am difficult to fit. So far, I am the queen of the elastic waist garment, but I am trying to stretch--hahaha!--my horizons a bit.
First, I stuffed my dummy. My, that sounds disgusting. Let me tell you, stuffing one's dummy can be a powerful incentive for a diet. Horrifying amounts of polyfill sacrificed their lives for my dummy.
Then I dug through my fabric stash to find the blouse I started three years ago. Please, allow Dummy to model it for you:
I put the blouse away three years ago because it was too low cut in front. The shoulders have since been pinned up and it seems I need to seam-rip them, bring them up about an inch, and correspondingly extend the armholes down an inch.
Is this going to happen? Why, no. Instead I decided to finish the blouse as begun, and wear a tank top underneath it for modesty's sake. But in the future, now that I have Dummy, I can adjust and pin patterns right on her *before* I sew, and maybe things will fit.
But before I can finish the blouse, I need to find the sleeves. Opps. Seems they've gone missing.
Instead, I made some of the Heather Bailey headbands (pdf)
and an elastic waist pair of shorts
and a super-quick elastic waist skirt.
And I'm still plugging away at the Swirl Shawl, whose pattern appears to have many holes (I'm feeling so punny!) in it. I fear she will not be a success.