01:55 - 25.04.07
Treasure Island
I'm guessing it might bore you, dear diary, but it's necessary. Right now I am in one location 24 hours per day, most days. In my home. In my posts to you, I list the many little jobs I do over that 24 hours simply because it is the only way I can remind myself that I am working and that I am putting in the 8 requisite hours - give or take - that most people invest in each work day of their week. Only my work week last seven days not five. Theoretically, I could work six hours per day in my home and still have the same productivity rating as most office workers. That's the difficulty of being an at-home anything - parent, telecommuter, or homemaker. No one else sees what you do, so they don't realize you are just as hard working as they are - often moreso. When I first went back into the paid workforce I luxuriated in the fact I was given a whole hour for an uninterrupted, lunchbreak plus two coffee breaks too. Who could ask for anything more? Never got that at home, with a building full of active boys. Nuh uh. My listing of tasks of my day represents the statistical analysis or time on task that I would do in any assignment I was given.
Today became a bit of a victory for persistence. My lungs were back up to full capacity, so I decided to tackle cleaning out that next closet. Tossed out two bags of garbage, but found several books that I have been looking for for ages and - drum roll please - that sewing machine that I thought had been recycled years ago. There it was at the very back in the corner in the dark - covered in dust. Hmm. As I thought back I recalled that I had been trying to get some mending done but for some reason I could not get the tension to balance. Each time I would start a new garment in the feeder the needle would bbo up and down an indefinite number of stitches and then it would break. Those needles were expensive and the breakage generally tore the cloth making things even worse than when I started. Over a period of months I tried all sort of remedies on my "precision zigzag unit" to no avail. I finally became really frustrated one day and shoved the entire kit and kaboodle to the back of that closet depositing the huge pile of mending on top for later reference. Of course over time, I would go and retrieve one or two pieces of clothing that were essential to someone in the family's wardrobe and stitch the damaged cloth by hand. During that time other bits of flotsam and jetsam were deposited in place of the mending since no other spots were available in my heavily used closets and cupboards.
As a result I spent a good part of two hours searching on-line for the operating manual for that machine. You see I got it secondhand when first I was married. That means that beast is likely going on 40 years old or so. A Morse 550A Precision Zigzag sewing machine. Very high tech at the time. Did it's own buttonholes and fancy stitching too. I still have the box of templates for that. Regardless of where I looked, I didn't find that particular manual though. One website I tried was a message board for seamstresses all exchanging helpful hints with respect to their machines. One woman had bought a Morse - not my model - secondhand only to find out it was a rip off by a Chinese firm of the real manufactured goods. Imagine that. She stated that the research she did revealed that the model number she had had been consistently flawed at point of manufacture and of course both the reputable firm and the rip off agent had both gone bankrupt long since. There was one website that featured photos of a huge variety of sewing machines on it's site with accompanying manuals for sale. I found the manual for the sewing machine I had used while in home economics class in Junior High but not the more technologically - for it's time - advanced one I acquired upon marriage. Bleagh. I'll try again later.
The balance of the work day was spent talking with various family members trying to co-ordinate various ventures. Think planning a party and a business meeeting all together and that is sort of what was going on. Cooking and doing laundry in between and during conversations. Giving the census lady our data during her annual visit and signing up to be on the voters list for the municipal election in October. I also had to spend nearly an hour in the shower after cleaning out that closet trying to get my lungs ventilated enough so that I could breathe again. That was even after taking an anti histamine and using my inhaler. 2 litres of ice cold tap water followed the shower and then I was able to breathe comfortably again. A lot of work for the amount of time I spent with my head in that closet - 2 hours for cleaning, one hour for recuperating. Bleagh 2. Need a nap now though.
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