Smuggling and Sewing

Not my normal blog-type ... I promise you nature next time.  My sewing brought back memories of my being a smuggler.  I trust there is a statue of limitations on my crime.  

Anyone who sews knows a sewer never throws away leftover bits and pieces of fabric …. Thank heavens!  When the powers that be announced it was time for everyone to wear a mask in public, I kicked into high gear.  So much of the current situation involves our adjusting to the strange new norms, but finally I could really do something. 

Out came my pile of fabric pieces and elastic.  Fabric with a tight weave is best … two of my scraps were excellent and a few more were decent.  Way back when I was in high school I had a summer job at the local café.  A traveling salesman came in selling lovely Egyptian cotton.  I couldn’t think of a possible reason I needed a yard of Egyptian cotton and buying enough for a blouse was too expensive … even so I bought a yard.  I still had half of it --- a lovely tight weave. 

The second best fabric, a red/orange paisley left over from a dress, also has good memories.  Between my junior and senior year of college I spent a summer hitch-hiking through Europe with a girlfriend.  I had two dresses ( the red/orange one and a green seersucker), one skirt and blouse, one sweater, a raincoat, etc.  I was warned not to wear pants.  A girl hitch-hiking in a skirt was a ‘nice’ girl; a girl in pants was looking for extra excitement.  We wore our skirts, accepted 99 rides, and never had a problem.

Well, I did have a bit of a problem once.  Ann was sick and I was zipping from Luzern, Switzerland to Milan, Italy by myself.  I knew a letter from Dale was waiting for me at the American Express office in Milan.  Two middle-aged Italian men offered me a ride.  We didn’t share a language, but the map said we were going in the same direction.  As we neared the Italian border, I could tell the two were arguing and arguing!  Oh dear!  Suddenly the driver yanked the wheel and turned into an alley. He got out and plucked at my dress -- my green seersucker.  My heart stopped.  Then I realized he wanted me to stuff my dress with American cigarettes! He loosened his pants and filled his underwear with more Cigarettes.  He could barely button his jacket.  The three of us hid about three cartons of cigarettes.  Half an hour later I was almost as scared when I underwent the scrutiny of the customs officer.  I still suspect he knew, but didn’t want to create an international incident.

I’ve had both of those pieces of fabric for over fifty years and they are as good as new.  I knew there was a reason I was saving them!

Next I telephoned our daughter, Rebecca.  She is 300 miles away, up in Seattle and works at Trader Joes (a specialty grocery store) right in the heart of Kirtland’s virus hot spot.  When I called to ask if she’d like me to make her some masks, I interrupted her own mask sewing.  She was scrambling – but I have more free time than she does and she realizes she’d like a clean mask every hour or so.  I’m happy to help.  I promised the first batch would be in the mail in a couple of days. 

I realized I will be needing more fabric and the internet suggested ‘batik.’  That made no sense to either of us.  I’ve done batik, i.e. I drew designed on fabric with melted wax, dyed, dried, added more wax, dyed, dried … gradually building a lovely design.  Then you try to iron all the wax out and eventually you have a lovely, original piece of fabric.  I thought the internet suggestion must be a mistake. 

Our local fabric store doesn’t impress me, but there is one in Bozeman, Montana I love – Main Street Quilting.  Soon I was talking to a delightful woman who knew just what I needed.  I obviously wasn’t her first mask-making customer. I found out ‘Batik’ also refers to a commercial type of fabric often used by quilters, one noted for its tight weave.  She suggested I go to the shop’s internet site, just click on their batik offerings, and pick out pieces. 

Rebecca and I got on the phone again and both logged onto Main Street Quilting’s web site.  We were 300 miles away from each other.  Even so, we had a ball choosing fabric:  some for her and some for the guys(her husband, son and stepson).  Pretty soon we got the giggles.  One design looked too much like bacteria, another looked dusty, i.e. dirty,  a third had wonderful mushrooms on it -- there were plenty of good ones.

The quilting shop must have gotten my fabric in the mail the same day I ordered.  I already have it in my hot little hands. 

And for those of you who might be interested:  getting narrow elastic is another item that is now in short supply.  Ties are a definite possibility, but a nuisance if you are putting a mask on and off several times a day.  I tried ordering from a variety of places:  My quilt shop in Bozeman was out and so was my local store, another would ship May 26; another would send it from China – but when?  I happened to have quite a bit of wide elastic and Rebecca discovered it splits rather well!  We’re in business.