Micro Entrepreneurism, Simple Living & Art
For some reason your plans fell through and whatever it is that was suppose to be consuming your time, is no longer – this is bonus time. What I want to know is what you do with it.
Do you get upset that you aren’t doing what you thought you were going to be doing and mope? Or do you just go back to your same old routine and roll right into the next thing on your todo list? Or do you do something extra, that you weren’t sure you were ever going to have the time to do?
The FloydFest office lost power today, so when I went in for my afternoon of interning, the door was locked and no one was there, so I came home. I had bonus time. I had jammed everything out this morning that I needed to get done for the day, and so I had nothing I had to do. I was cruising along, cutting a half ton of edging so I wouldn’t have to cut anymore for a while, and Mom broke the straight stitch machine. A thread got jammed up in between the bobbin case and the part that goes round the bobbin case so badly that it wouldn’t turn at all. This very same thing had just happened three weeks ago and we’d taken it in to the sewing machine wizard to fix, but at $45 a visit, plus the machine downtime and the hassle, this was getting frustrating. Actually, Mom was pissed. She was in the middle of a custom order that she was close to finishing, and needs to be shipped out before the end of the week. She could taste completion, and the freaking thread got jammed.
So I went over and started taking screws out. I’d never done this before, never even begun to tinker, because Mom always spoke of this elusive thing called “timing” that one never wants to mess up. Tinkering and timing was for the experts, the quirky little old men with their bags full of tiny screw drivers and sand paper. Timing is, after all, the magic of the sewing machine stitch. Without good timing, you can’t sew anything. And we knew nothing about timing.
Eight teeny tiny screws later I had the outside edge of some part I don’t know the name too taken off, but still no glory on loosening the jammed thread. I went deeper. Undid more screws. Till I had the whole damn bobbin turning contraption in my hand. At which point Mom realized all hope of not messing up the timing was lost, and at which point she realized she didn’t care. I had nothing to lose so long as I didn’t lose one of those teeny tiny little screws. Mom got the glory moment when she figured out the whole thing popped apart, I got the glory moment when I actually did the popping and got the thread out. Then again when I got all the parts put back together. But the real crowing glory – I figured out how to re-adjust the timing and made that baby stitch like she was meant to stitch!
Thanks to bonus time I had the patience to learn something we should’ve learned how to do a long time ago.