Observations

Every morning—well, Monday through Thursday—I drive my kids to school, then drive to the train/bus stop, and then take the train into Salt Lake where my classes are. Here's what I notice:

If I leave my house between 7:45 and 7:47 I can pick up our carpool kids, get them all to school, and then make it in time to catch my train. The traffic is super heavy on Mondays, and a little less on the other days. I've noticed that checking the clock every minute or so doesn't get me to the train faster, and that when I ignore the clock I'm actually more likely to be on time.

I've noticed that very few people talk to each other on the train, but the ones who do are loud. Maybe it's all relative.

I never realized how many people in the world smoke. Yuck. I may die of second-hand smoke before I finish school.

It takes me about 12 minutes to walk from the train to the school. I cross two streets going east and one going north. I used to just go whichever direction the lights changed first; now I go all the way east first so I can walk past the city/county building with all the pretty trees instead of the big parking lots and buildings.

the best part of my walk to school

But here's the really funny thing I notice. When I'm walking, I can't help but look at the faces of the people I pass. And when I catch their eyes I always smile and say "hi" or "good morning." But most people try really hard to not catch your eye. They purposely look straight ahead, as if they have no peripheral vision, or they look down, or glance away as they pass you. Funny.

See how much I'm learning by going to school?

It Takes a Woman

Our bathroom has problems—not the least of which is ten of us sharing one bathroom. But I am talking about actual, physical problems that need repairs.

For one thing, due to a long-time but difficult-to-find leak, we now have a hole in the floor which can only be fixed by taking out the bath-tub and tearing out the floor. Well that's not going to happen until we get a shower (and walls, and a sink, and a door, and lights) in the basement bathroom. And who knows when we'll be able to manage all that? It will take some major moola. (You remember that the kitchen remodel is everything that can be done with paint. This is because paint is relatively cheap—compared to new floor, new flooring, new everything . . . for both bathrooms). Yes, this is a big problem which requires a big solution.

But our bathtub also has another, smaller problem. Somehow it got chipped, and the bottom started to rust (not all the way through, thank goodness). So we went to Home Depot and bought a $20-ish porcelain-bathtub-repair kit. It's this stuff that you just paint onto the bottom of the bathtub, let it set for 48 hours, and voila! Good as new!


Except that instead of setting up hard, it just made a rubbery layer of stuff that peeled right off.

So Bruce and I wondered if we'd done it wrong, if we should buy another kit and try again, or just what. I thought, What we need is something we can paint over the hole, that's waterproof, that is hard and long-lasting.

Hmmm.

I've got it! Fingernail polish!

So that's what I used. I washed and dried the tub, then applied about three layers of clear undercoat, and eight layers of white nail polish, followed by two more layers of clear topcoat (with 15 to 30 minutes of dry-time between each coat).

Smooth, hard, durable, waterproof. Voila!

It works great! I've used this bathtub-repair method three times now in the last year or so. One application of nail polish on your bathtub lasts four to five months before it starts to crack and chip. Then you just get out the nail-polish-remover, clean it all up and do it again. And after three applications I still have half a bottle of clear-coat, and half a bottle of white. Bathtub repair for about 66¢ a shot.

Seriously, a man never would have thought of this! ;-)

Homework

School has been lots of fun. Fortunately I don't have a lot of homework. But I thought I'd share some of what I'm doing with you—you may find it interesting.

In Intermediate Sewing we are learning how to do what I have always thought of as basic sewing: setting in sleeves, putting in zippers, etc. But we are learning some little tips that make it easier and more professional-looking. A lot of the younger girls in class are already asking me how to complete the in-class projects (half-size samples).

I have the most homework for Pattern-Making —at least I would, except our teacher shows us how to do our homework during class-time; so if you "get it" in class, then no homework. We have been learning to move darts. No, I am not talking about the kind you throw at a target. We take a "sloper" (a pattern with no seam allowances) and change it so instead of looking like this:

it looks like this:

or this:

or this:

We do a lot of drawing, cutting and pasting in that class—kind of like first grade. Way fun!

For my homework in Textiles today (an in-class presentation) I talked about my underwear. And not just any underwear; no, this was a pair of black lace "boy-pants."

Why on earth would anything that looks like this be called "boy pants?"

We had to choose an item of clothing that had failed in its serviceability (usefulness) because of the fabric it was made of—not the design or the construction, but the actual fabric. While other kids used sweaters, swimsuits, etc, I chose, yes, lingerie. You may question the serviceability of lacy boy-pants, and I wouldn't blame you. But Bruce helped me choose the garment to write/talk about. The biggest problem with this item is that it feels really rough—not nice to wear and, apparently, not nice to touch either. This problem has to do with a quality that, in talking about textiles, is called "hand," which just means "the way it feels."

Hmmm. Did I have the guts to go into a class of twenty people, show them my little black panties and say, "The trouble with these panties is the hand." ???

I did it. I determined that if it had been made of different fibers (they are composed of 93% nylon and 7% spandex) it would have had much nicer hand. The teacher, Janet (who is a very funny lady), agreed. "With a garment of this type," she said, "a rough hand might spoil the moment."

I think people in the fashion school are going to know my name.