“It is the East, and Juliet is…the Letter J.”

I’ve mentioned before that I really love the many meanings of nautical signal flags. Once you catch on, some combinations that were probably meant to be randomly decorative become really funny. For example, the combination Mike-Golf-Victor, or “MGV,” means “Patient has foreign body in the nose.” If your initials are MGV, it might be helpful to know that before using nautical flags as your monogram.

The idea for this R+J bag, though, simply came from the idea that Romeo+Juliet would make a cute combination. The red side is the “Romeo,” flag, which can be interpreted as simply the letter R, or if at sea, “Preparing to Replenish.” The blue and white “Juliet” flag, or letter J, means “I am on fire and have dangerous cargo; keep clear.” Looks like Juliet is running away from Romeo!

I thought I’d better look up the meanings of R & J together, and this is what I found: According to the International Code of Signals, R+J means “You should keep your engines ready,” whereas J+R means “I expect to refloat,” that is, after having run aground. So, nothing too embarrassing if you happen to carry this handbag in the presence of a medical officer who happens to be well-versed in the International Code.

As a practical matter, there are SO MANY combinations of signals that mean so many things, especially the very specific medical emergency code; it is unlikely that anyone has actually memorized the entire thing. Unlikely, but not impossible!

If you’d like to order your own custom bag, contact me through my Etsy shop: http://www.thelandlockedsailor.etsy.com or the big red Etsy button at the bottom of this page.

Whadd’ya think?

At Last!

I have always wanted to sew.

When I was little, my mom had this great sewing machine that was hardly ever used. Well, I don’t know if it was actually great, but I thought it was AWESOME because it would *pop* right out of the sewing table and be ready to use. I sold that sewing machine at a garage sale to raise money for a preaching expedition when I was 16 or so, having never learned to use it.

In my early 20s, I got on a sewing kick and learned how to read patterns. I got busy sewing (by hand!) a simple dress for a little girl I knew, but my stitches seemed like they’d unravel if you just looked at them too intensely. I gave up.

Now, 13 years after selling that crazy pop-up contraption, I finally have my very own Pfaff 296, which I hear is a great machine. I can’t wait to start playing with it. I’ve always had this fear that if I used a sewing machine, I’d sew right through my fingers. I’m determined to get over that terror.

Ironing is another thing that has always been a mystery to me. My mother never let my sisters and me buy any clothes that would need ironing. The only way we knew to get wrinkles out was to spray the item down with water, and throw it in the dryer. The end. Wrinkles magically disappeared. Unfortunately, as a knitter, I need to block my knits, which often requires ironing. (I have also been terrified of irons– I always thought they would burn me and stick to my skin and I would die.)

Last week I did all my blocking on the floor, on top of a thick towel. Imagine me there with my head on the floor trying to make sure not to touch the knit fabric as I steamed it. Hmmm… I thought. So this is why people have ironing boards! If blocking didn’t take so long to dry, I’d use my kitchen table. But, come to think of it, it’s already covered with random things including a rigid heddle loom.

It’s going to be difficult to complete sewing projects without an iron. So last night, I was at Jo-Ann Crafts and I saw the COOLEST ironing board cover! It’s marked up with a sewing guide– 1″ grid, bias lines, measuring tape… It’s wonderful! I bought it, and then decided I’d better go get an ironing board.

So, here I am, all ready to go. I’ve got my sewing machine, my tomato full of pins, an iron, an ironing board, some fabric remnants that struck my fancy, and no idea how to operate my sewing machine.

One step at a time.