This is Kwik Sew 2000, the pattern for #1 son’s shirt. This somewhat goofy picture shows a fabric very like the Pendleton wool he has chosen from the lengths La Bella gave me, and it ought to be nice if I can do it correctly.
Hancock Fabric had all the Big 4 patterns on sale for almost nothing. #1 son’s choice of an $8.99 Kwik Sew pattern under those circumstances is characteristic. He will also nag me about starting it, complain about everything, and refuse to wear it if it has, say, uneven topstitching or something.
I try not to make things for him. He has been warned that he has to wear it if I make it.
First I have to finish hemming this lovely skirt. This is the flippy circular skirt I’m making from my share of the Pendleton wool. The hem appears to be about three miles long. I’m just estimating, mind you, but I have watched an entire season of 30 Rock while hemming it and it isn’t finished yet.
I like handrolled hems.
I have enough to make a jacket, too. I’m thinking about what shape of jacket will coordinate well with a flippy circular skirt, just in case I ever want to wear them together.
Yesterday I began with further confabulation with Kevin. Yes, that is his real name. I’m almost frustrated enough to give out his last name as well, just as a warning. Kevin is the one who has been trying to install analytics for me for months. He seems like a really nice guy, but he is a thorn in my side. How bad do I look when it takes me months to get things done? My clients figure it’s my ineptitude that keeps these things from being accomplished. I tried to convey the right balance of kindly understanding and furious desperation. I considered mentioning that he still hasn’t corrected the address on the inside pages, but decided not to press it.
Next I did The Computer Guy’s blog post. I had resisted doing it all weekend, on the grounds that I should have A Life even though I know he doesn’t, and felt guilty when I turned it in around 9:00 am. He had it posted in about 20 minutes, giving me the impression that he had been waiting around for it, wondering what happened to my famously fast turnaround.
Next, I went to the gym for treadmill and weight machines.
I then did a couple of hours for the Aussies. I had a couple of phone calls during that from Suwanda, who wanted to chat about hymns. I toggled off, of course, but I was also working with the girl from the Philippines, and it was getting really late for her to be up.
“The ones we came up with yesterday will be fine, I’m sure.” I was probably a bit curt.
“You had another in mind,” she said with a hint of hurt. “If it would work as a Hymn of Invitation…?”
“Ah yes,” I agreed, “I’ll look it up and email it to the office. I’m working for some Australians right now.”
I imagine I sounded harried. My family understand the terms, “I’m Toggled” and “I’m on oDesk,” but Suwanda doesn’t. I thought the mention of Australians might make it sound urgent. She is a retired teacher. Time is different for her. She doesn’t collaborate with people in other hemispheres, either. There’s only this little window of time when both sides of the world are at work, assuming that any of us get to have lives.
“I’m in the office now,” she protested, thinking that perhaps I could discuss the relative merits of varying possible Hymns of Invitation with her so she could pass it along to the secretary. She probably wanted me to come in and sing through them with her.
I was firm. I finished up my time with the Aussies and found another encyclopedia assignment waiting in my inbox, and a message from the guy in Philadelphia for whom I blog, saying he wanted more, and to remind him if he didn’t give me a start date next week. I didn’t forget the hymn in my happiness about this, though, I’m glad to say.
There was also a trio of emails from Client #3 wondering about her nameservers and her search function. I had a look at her website, which was due to go live last night but didn’t, and noticed another couple of things. I sent some messages off to her and to The Computer Guy regarding her and got to work. Then I got an email from The Computer Guy about her empty page.
I believe that he told me she had sent him something for it. Indeed, I know it for a fact, because that’s why I didn’t write it. We had some frenzied emails and even phone calls, culminating in an offer of, “I can put it in a PDF file for download, but making it into real HTML…” from The Computer Guy.
By this time, the online catalog claimed to have 0 items on 0 pages, and all I can say is that better not be true, after four days of typing. I explained that I had a meeting, and could I do it afterwards? He allowed as how he expected to be up late.
I took #1 son to choose a pattern, fed my family, and dashed off, only slightly late for the meeting. By the time I drove all over the place looking for a parking spot, I was actually late, but a friend who happened to be driving by picked me up and drove me to the door of the music building, bless him.
I made it in, having missed only the initial blathering with which all such meetings begin. It was the organizational meeting for the board of a music organization. We went around the circle introducing ourselves. I said firmly that I didn’t intend to serve on the board or sit on committees, but I would write whatever they wanted. We had a clear explanation of the financial circumstances and goals of the group, and then the people who like to be in meetings because it makes them feel important started talking. You know what I mean. Most of the people on that board will be a joy to work with, but there are always exceptions. I am grateful for those people because they are always willing to serve on boards, and I am not.
I gathered my stuff up and asked whether there would be any objection to putting a donations button on the website.
“It depends,” one began ponderously, “how you collect the donations. You have to be very careful –“
“Nothing to do with me,” I said firmly. I am practicing up on firmness, as you can see. “No money actually goes to the machine. What you do with it once they send it in is up to you.”
There were discussions of taxes and line item budgets, but I had put away my notebook. “I have a website going live tonight,” I said, “and the engineer is waiting for me. I believe I understand all the circumstances and I trust the board will let me know what you’d like me to do.”
Just a tip for the future: saying the engineer is waiting for you works much better than saying that your children are hungry or you have to get up early the next day, or even that you have papers to grade. All those things cause others in the group to start saying how they have more children to feed, get up earlier, and have more work to finish than you do. They know, however, that they can’t claim to have two engineers waiting for them, so I escaped.
Upon arriving home, I wrote the missing page, talked briefly with #1 daughter about the table of the elements, and called #2 daughter, who was just getting out of her symphony board meeting and obligingly listed the revenue sources of that organization for me, for inspirational purposes.
And so, as Pepys used to say, to bed.