April 10, 2020
Dear Everyone:
When you’re up to your eyeballs in alligators, it’s sometimes difficult
to remember that your main objective is to drain the swamp.
I don’t know about you, but this past week, I’ve been busier than a
one-armed paper-hanger with hives.
That used to be one of our Mother’s favorite expressions.
For those of you recently returning from intergalactic travel, a
paper-hanger was a person who was paid to hang wallpaper in people’s
homes. Also, a specialist
who hung prefabricated strips that make up a billboard.
And hives is a kind of skin rash featuring unrelenting itching.
So what have I been doing?
Mostly, making cotton face masks.
Here in California, Social Distancing has been in effect for over three
weeks by order of the state’s governor.
And clearly, it’s working.
This week, the governor handed down a new decree:
Cover your nose-and-mouth with a cloth mask whenever you go out
in public.
I had already been making masks, first with a pattern found online, with
¼-inch elastic to hold them in place around the ears.
My meager supply of elastic quickly ran out; and when I looked
online, all the usual suppliers were all sold out or on backorder, which
amounted to the same thing.
So I made various attempts using a cache of Velcro, creating cloth
straps that fastened behind the head and neck with 2-inch strips of
Velcro. Eventually, I found
what seemed like the best approach and proceeded to generate nearly a
dozen masks in two sizes:
Too big and too small. Or
large and medium, if you prefer.
By yesterday I had enough masks make the drive up to “Jeannie’s” place
in Concord with ones for her and her immediate neighbors.
I fretted that, technically, this did not qualify as an
“essential” trip; but “Jeannie” assured me that it was.
At least, to her.
On the way home, I stopped at the Post Office to mail more masks to
family and friends in other states.
The Post Office was virtually deserted, with bright yellow strips
of tape on the floor and signs posted to “Please Stand Behind the Yellow
Line”.
The only problem with that was it put the customer too far away from the
postal worker and the counter to conduct any kind of business.
As it was, I had to stand on my usual folding step, which I keep
in the trunk of my car for just such an occasion, to be able to see the
electronic reader on top of the counter.
Nevertheless, both sets of masks are on their way, one reportedly
already having arrived in Portland.
All of this activity has, thus far, involved using fabric remnants from
previous projects. Which is
why we never throw away more than scraps.
In fact, while I was rooting through a bag of fabric intended to make
curtains for my kitchen window, I discovered a piece of leftover
unbleached cotton muslin almost a yard and a half long.
This may not seem like much until you realize that the piece is
over 100 inches wide.
So now I’m churning out plain white masks at a frightening rate.
I can cut four straps of the shorter length at one time.
As long as I remember to cut an equal number of longer ones.
Actually, it is the straps that take the longest time.
First cutting, then pinning to sew one end and the long edge.
After stitching, each strap needs to be turned right side out.
Anyone who has had reason to make a strap 2-½ inches by eight,
nine or ten inches, with a ¼-inch seam knows that turning it out and
pressing it flat takes the most time.
However, I discovered a useful tool in the form of a wooden dowel
supplied for stuffing polyfil into crocheted toys.
It’s about nine inches long and about 2 millimeters in
circumference. It greatly
streamlines the amount of time needed to turn what amounts to a narrow
tunnel of fabric right side out.
The actual masks, all being 9.5 inches by 12, can also be cut in
multiple layers. I’m
currently working on batches of eight medium and eight large.
Having established a working process, I am now racing along with all the
speed of an exceptionally enthusiastic steamroller.
Truth be told, it still takes about two full days to produce a
batch.
After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Or so they tell me.
Love, as always,
Pete
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