Mostly, though, it's a dump. I semi-cleaned it out when my daughter stayed with me for a few weeks, but then it became my dumping ground. All of my grad school work and papers and final products ended up in there, and all of my SEI class papers ended up in there, and it sort of serves as my closet since there are no closets in this 150+-year-old townhouse.
So, today is the day. Yes, I actually get some of the room cleared and ready for being used again. Or maybe ready to be moved. Depends on the noise level of my new neighbors once they settle in.
My main goal today is to attack the big bookcase where my notebooks need to go -- school stuff, professional stuff, and writing. It all goes there. Once I have that corner organized, I get the brilliant idea to move the sewing machine and its table into the same corner, give or take a few feet. It will fit there perfectly if I just roll the table sideways. Since the table really does have casters, this is easy.
Until ... because we all know with me that nothing is ever easy ... the sewing machine starts making a terrible sound. I realize that the needle is going up and down at breakneck speed. Faster and faster the machine wheel is spinning. I don't even sew that fast when I do sew (which is rare). What the hell is happening here?
I search everywhere under the table and around the table. Where is the damn machine foot? Why is this machine running all by itself? I finally locate the cord under all the other crap lying around, and I yank the connection from the machine. Slowly, and with a bit of attitude, the machine slows and finally stalls with the needle in mid-stride.
I notice that one of the card table chairs that has been folded and leaning against the sewing table has fallen over during my roll-around redecorating, and, when it fell, it fell directly onto the sewing machine foot mechanism.
I pick up the fallen chair, move it away from my work space, and sit down in the already unfolded chair I'd set up earlier. I look down at the machine and notice that there is no longer a tail of thread protruding from the needle. Carefully I use a long quilting needle to tug at the thread and bring what I can back to the surface. Then, I open the bobbin casing area.
Hoe. Lee. Sheeee. It.
Once I get the mess out, I leave the bobbin and its casing out. I'll replace everything next time. Right now I am still organizing, which will take me days, and I won't be sewing any time soon. I do, however, move the folded chair that caused the disaster far, far across the little room and stuff it back under the eaves. I don't need it falling over and scaring the crap out of me a second time. I'm old. I can't take that much excitement all in one day.
