Mother has an indoor clothes dryer; it's a wooden one. She isn’t “trying to save the planet” but maintains her reason for no electrical dryer boils down to room. It would involve a renovation of the utility room. At age 97, the chaos that goes with remodeling a room is not appealing. So, a clothespin bag is an essential component for clothesline use.
Early this summer, the vintage clothespin bag crafted by my maternal grandma revealed its antiquity when the strap snapped apart as I threw it over my head. After finding a large safety pin and securing the strap once again, I hung the laundry on the clothesline.
I avoided railing about the much-worn bag and the need to replace it. An internet search reveal no pattern that remotely resembled the one we were using. Pushing the need to replace it into the dark recesses of my memory, I purposely decided to make the old one work.
Then one day I realized it must be replaced after the strap broke again. When a discussion ensued with Mother, she mentioned a pattern. I responded, “Well, where in the world would I find it?” She promptly described where to find it in her bedroom. I located a sack labeled “Pattern for clothespin bag” just as she directed me! Much to my chagrin, the pattern was the pieces of the deconstructed clothespin bag made around 60 years ago with no instructions!
A few days later, in a moment of surging sewing confidence, I told Mother, “I think I can figure it out. I’ll just have Angie pick up some fabric for it.”
Angie's search yielded fabric of the perfect weight, design, and reasonable price per yard. Of course, Mother found it an exorbitant price to which I piped up by reminding her of what Dad would say, “Honey, you’ve got to get up with the times!”
Angie arrived with the material she had selected, but the step-by-step construction of it eluded me. I took the pattern. Persevering, I cut out the pieces for the new one.
My dread of the task of sewing the new bag was embarrassing. I knew Angie was coming and would assume the day-to-day tasks. I tackled the job remembering Grandma always said, “The dread is the worst part of the job.”
I avoided railing about the much-worn bag and the need to replace it. An internet search reveal no pattern that remotely resembled the one we were using. Pushing the need to replace it into the dark recesses of my memory, I purposely decided to make the old one work.
Then one day I realized it must be replaced after the strap broke again. When a discussion ensued with Mother, she mentioned a pattern. I responded, “Well, where in the world would I find it?” She promptly described where to find it in her bedroom. I located a sack labeled “Pattern for clothespin bag” just as she directed me! Much to my chagrin, the pattern was the pieces of the deconstructed clothespin bag made around 60 years ago with no instructions!
A few days later, in a moment of surging sewing confidence, I told Mother, “I think I can figure it out. I’ll just have Angie pick up some fabric for it.”
Angie's search yielded fabric of the perfect weight, design, and reasonable price per yard. Of course, Mother found it an exorbitant price to which I piped up by reminding her of what Dad would say, “Honey, you’ve got to get up with the times!”
Angie arrived with the material she had selected, but the step-by-step construction of it eluded me. I took the pattern. Persevering, I cut out the pieces for the new one.
My dread of the task of sewing the new bag was embarrassing. I knew Angie was coming and would assume the day-to-day tasks. I tackled the job remembering Grandma always said, “The dread is the worst part of the job.”
I began with the strap. Sewing it on the machine wasn’t too bad but turning the strap right-side out literally took about two hours. I persisted with minimal complaining. It looked pretty good for something that would only be seen at the clothesline.
I stitched the rest tenaciously only to discover it looked terrific except for one small thing. I had attached the strap too low on the pin pouch itself.
I refused to rip out my sewing to reattach the strap since this was not a garment to be worn in public. The clothespin bag simply had to hold clothespins. Upon studying the problem, I lengthened the strap by cutting it and splicing it together with an extension piece between the two severed ends. It worked, seemed strong, looked semi-professional, and was worthy to be out into service at the clothesline.
On my journey of creating most likely the last clothespin bag I’ll ever need to make, I found my uncertainty leading to procrastination. Solomon in the book of Ecclesiastes warned of this in chapter 11, verse 4:
I stitched the rest tenaciously only to discover it looked terrific except for one small thing. I had attached the strap too low on the pin pouch itself.
I refused to rip out my sewing to reattach the strap since this was not a garment to be worn in public. The clothespin bag simply had to hold clothespins. Upon studying the problem, I lengthened the strap by cutting it and splicing it together with an extension piece between the two severed ends. It worked, seemed strong, looked semi-professional, and was worthy to be out into service at the clothesline.
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| Perhaps the Last Clothespin Bag I'll Ever Need to Make |
On my journey of creating most likely the last clothespin bag I’ll ever need to make, I found my uncertainty leading to procrastination. Solomon in the book of Ecclesiastes warned of this in chapter 11, verse 4:
He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap.
The Message succinctly spells out the hazards of hesitation and delay in its interpretation of Ecclesiastes 11:3-4:
When the clouds are full of water, it rains. When the wind blows down the tree, it lies where it falls. Don’t set there watching the wind. Do your own work. Don’t stare at the clouds. Get on with your life.
Postponement in creating a clothespin bag is inconsequential compared to hesitation in reaching out to loved ones and friends. Showing our love, sharing Jesus with others, and doing good when we can should never fall victim to our trivial delays.
The habit of always putting off an experience until you can afford it, or until the time is right, or until you know how to do it is one of the greatest burglars of joy. Be deliberate, but once you’ve made up your mind – jump in.” Charles Swindoll
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