Ode to Blogtoberfest (a blog festival)

Its the first day of October
And as tradition now dictates
Tinniegirl gathers together
A bunch of blogging mates

They make a most solemn pledge
To write at least once a day
Throughout the whole of Blogtoberfest
(And not konk out just half way)

The lovely Curlypops is 2-IC
She looks after the giveaways
You should go take a look
And enter them without delay

To keep up with all the bloggers
Joining in with the festivity
You'll need very strong spectacles
And some speed-reading proclivity

And so begins this blogging month
Do sign up if you wish
A post-a-day for all October
Its going to be rather swish

(And I'd better apologise up front
You see, I'll go well to begin
But content is likely to get tawdry
The minute the material runs thin)

Ode to stitchless sewing

I'd like to ask you a question
To see what you think and know
About this favourite pastime
The hobby we all call: "Sew"

You see, I think I'm "sewing"
But this could be quite unjust
You see, my poor sewing machine
Is gathering loads of dust

There's been not a single stitch made
Nor any fashion fabric cut
Yet in my mind, I've done loads
I've been a total sewing nut

I've bought lots of sewing mags
And renewed my undying passion
For possibly, maybe, one-day tracing
Something from Burda World of Fashion

I've downloaded a Jalie pattern
And begun taping together pages
(But the seventy-two I've printed out
Are taking bloody ages)

I've slavishly read sewing blogs
I'm keen to keep abreast
Of all the current sewing trends
(Especially how Cathy will be dressed)

But at the end of the day, I accept
That most would really deem
That the act of sewing must really result
In the creation of at least one seam

Ode to a paper pattern (Blogtoberfest day 27)

Ode to a paper pattern
By Hoppo Bumpo

Darling, what would I do without you?
Yes you, my dearest pattern.
You are my veneratio magister
(Possibly revered teacher in Latin?)

You entice me with your photographs
The back and front line views,
Short or long? Sleeves or not?
View A or C - what to choose?

You help me through the purchase
Of fabric, zips and thread
Without your steadfast guidance
I could so easily be misled

(I'd surely select wide wale cord
Instead of slinky satin
But you keep me right on track
My darling paper pattern)

You also keep me on my toes
With all those pattern pieces
Twenty-eight for one garment?
The cutting never ceases.

And why are twenty-seven of those
All printed on sheet one
Yet the last piece hidden, on sheet two
Is this a joke or bit of fun?

And thinking now, your multi-sizing
Really is a killer
Was I following dash-dash, dot-dash
Or something else altogether?

Actually dearest pattern
You really have a darker side
Once taken from the envelope
You ain't never going back inside

Despite your papery thickness
Being measured in microns
Unfolded, you grow exponentially
That's for certain; odds-on

So pattern, dearest darling one
I'm falling out of love.
Maybe ready-to-wear ain't so bad
(If only it fitted like a glove)

Bobbin

Ode to my bobbin
By Hoppo Bumpo

You've seen me through each elated high
And every ghastly low;
But little circular companion
Should I see you as friend or foe?

At first methinks ... friend, of course!
Your tireless work, so great.
Spinning, spinning, all a-twirl,
Interlocking so very straight.

Yet, there's a hint of something bad;
Occasionally some depraved angles.
How is it that when you're with your mates
All that thread unfurls and tangles?

And do you remember when you tricked me?
I thought the machine was spent
I dis-assembled all components
Only to find it was you that was bent

Then there's the times I sew and sew
Until there is no seam left
When I find to great annoyance
That you've been spinning completely bereft?

Bobbin, bobbin I need you so
Without you I cannot work;
But frankly its a love-hate thing.
The reality is ... you're a jerk

Captivating

She arrived early; just after dinner.
Larger than life.
All aglow; magnificence in a shade of gold.
Her face was soft and full.
Her beauty captivating.
She seemed to cast warmth over everyone in her circle.
It was impossible not to stare admiringly.

But as the evening wore on she appeared to withdraw.
She seemed smaller.
Distant.
Her face pale and the light colder; harder.
Lined with shadowy features.
And as she retreated, was barely noticed.
Until she was gone by dawn.

Once a month, I sit crouched outside in the evening shadows. Camera poised. Hoping to capture the full moon, as she rises in all her glory about the horizon.

The moon, however, is my photographic nemesis. Trembling hands and a lack of tripod, guarantee that the moon remains just a wavy blur in print. Always a doomed venture.

As they say, lunacy is the act of doing the same thing over and over, hoping for a different outcome.

Elastic

I have finally made a start on sewing up the new pyjamas for Argy. As I make up the little pull-on pyjama pants, I thank goodness for simple elasticised waists. Easy to sew and comfy to wear.

Ode to elastic
by Hoppo Bumpo

I love it for its simplicity,
Its very simple splendour;
It holds, it grips, it cinches in,
Its a very effective suspender.

Its a favourite notion in my stash,
Simply put ... fantastic;
Rubber or synthetic-cored
Its the humble polymer, elastic.

To check the quality of your stretchy stuff,
Extend it with some strength;
It should recover to its initial shape
And definitely the original length.

Braided elastic should be encased;
Woven is the "heavy-weight";
Sew knitted right directly on
(Length: 100 percent less eight).

And with this final thought I say
Be sure to purchase more;
Replace tired old stretchy stuff
Lest your undies hit the floor.