Decorating Instead Of Sewing

I’ve been hanging pictures and drilling cabinets for hardware instead of sewing (or even knitting) but the new Luxury Sewing Lair in the basement is all set up!

This is what you see when you walk in. I need to make machine covers (the fabric is just draped here) and I’m waiting for a tabletop ironing board to arrive to go on that far left desk. (My regular ironing board is huge and I don’t need it unless I’m ironing lengths of fabric, so that’s going to stay in the closet.)
Three long white desks against a wall with two curtained windows in it. The desks have three sewing machines on them.

On the other side of the room, we have the thing that gave me the idea to finish the basement in the first place: I wanted a guest room. Sure, I ended up making a Luxury Sewing Lair instead but I still wanted the ability to turn this into a space for guests. So there’s an ensuite bathroom down here and that blue chaise opens like a book into a queen bed. (Still need to make some throw pillow covers.)
A navy blue chaise lounge with a white coffee table on wheels in front of it. There is a fluffy white rug on the floor.

And on the far end of the room, there’s fabric storage and the record player. I’m debating adding a TV over there, too, but the decorating budget is maxed out for a while.
Long green cabinet pushed against a white wall. There is art and a fabric covered pinboard on the wall in green and blue print.

I love this space, though. Other than the chaise and the doors to the cabinets, I had all the other furniture pieces; they just got shuffled around the house. I can wheel the little coffee table out of the way and cut stuff out on a nice thick rug and generally luxuriate in a room I dreamed about when I bought the house 15 years ago.

Seeing Green

Let’s ignore the fact that we’re seeing green because there hasn’t been any snow this winter and yesterday was 50 degrees in the mountains and instead just enjoy some growing things:

Friday Links

1. There’s a general strike today in solidarity with Minneapolis, comrades! (And if you can’t miss work, here are 20 other ways you can show up. Collective action takes many forms.)

A black and white poster. Text reads, ICE OUT!NATIONWIDE SHUTDOWN! NO WORK. NO SCHOOL. NO SHOPPING. JAN 30, 2026 SIGN ON TO JOIN US: nationalshutdown.org

 

2. If you’re local, there’s a rally at 2:00 at Washington Square downtown. I already made my sign:A cardboard sign with handwritten text and a small drawing of a shark. The text says, "WE'RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER NUREMBERG" and the shark is saying, "ICE OUT"

 

3. It’s been a LONG terrible month but Sunday is February at least? I’ve also been doing Dry January–so I appreciated this post about managing anxiety without booze.

Thursday Essay (And Music)

This piece by Adam Serwer in The Atlantic is worth your time today. He rides along with a few volunteers–some delivering food, some watching ICE–and, in a very dry Atlantic way, absolutely destroys the assholes responsible for this occupation.

For example:

[The] remarks reminded me of something Stephen Miller, the Trump adviser, had written: “Migrants and their descendants recreate the conditions, and terrors, of their broken homelands.” In Minnesota, the opposite was happening. The “conditions and terrors” of immigrants’ “broken homelands” weren’t being re-created by immigrants. They were being re-created by people like Miller. The immigrants simply have the experience to recognize them.

 

and:

The federal surge into Minneapolis reflects a series of mistaken MAGA assumptions. The first is the belief that diverse communities aren’t possible: “Social bonds form among people who have something in common,” Vance said in a speech last July. “If you stop importing millions of foreigners into the country, you allow social cohesion to form naturally.” Vance’s remarks are the antithesis to the neighborism of the Twin Cities, whose people do not share the narcissism of being capable of loving only those who are exactly like them.

 

But the quote from this piece that I see going around the most is near the end, and it’s circulating for good reason:

The secret fear of the morally depraved is that virtue is actually common, and that they’re the ones who are alone. In Minnesota, all of the ideological cornerstones of MAGA have been proved false at once. Minnesotans, not the armed thugs of ICE and the Border Patrol, are brave. Minnesotans have shown that their community is socially cohesive—because of its diversity and not in spite of it. Minnesotans have found and loved one another in a world atomized by social media, where empty men have tried to fill their lonely soul with lies about their own inherent superiority. Minnesotans have preserved everything worthwhile about “Western civilization,” while armed brutes try to tear it down by force.

 

And if that didn’t get you fired up enough, listen to this song Bruce Springsteen wrote Saturday, recorded Sunday, mixed Monday, and dropped Tuesday. Solidarity!

Micro Joy: LABEL MAKERS

I saw a phrase over the weekend floating around Instagram: “Micro joys are how we survive macro grief.” And it’s the same idea as collecting wonderful things or that there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. So I humbly present a source of joy: the label maker my dad got me for Christmas.

The back of a label maker labeled "Karen's Label Maker" in gothic font

Close up of a warning sticker on a metal ladder, with a label saying "ladder" above it.

Two leftover containers labeled, "Alan's container" and "Mike's container"

Yes those first few labels were just me goofing around, but it’s really coming into its own as I re-do all the sewing storage in the new space:
Three clear organizers of sewing supplies, all neatly labeled

Knitting Appreciation Post

Blogging as usual feels a little like this: Split screen meme with a burning city at the top captioned, AMERICA RIGHT NOW and A man shouting at the bottom, captioned, "ANYONE WANT TO TALK ABOUT CRAFTS?"

But as the great Elizabeth Zimmerman said, “Knit on with confidence and hope through all crises,” so that’s what I’m doing.

I’m down to the final ribbing on my rainbow stripe sweater that took one entire year so expect pictures of that soon. And instead of doomscrolling at night for the last few days, I’ve been scrolling knitting patterns to find my next sweater that will take another year.

I do love the PetiteKnit patterns and she has a mariner stripe sweater that could be great in an orange and white–but I also saw this neutral (!) cardigan that pulled up memories of my two favorite Banana Republic sweaters in high school, a gray cardigan and a marled b&w turtleneck:

A tan cardigan with black flecks and a floppy collar

The back of a tan cardigan, with a narrow black stripe running across the back

If I could BUY this I would have already, but I’m not sure about making it: Those black flecks are actually colorwork,  i.e. knitted into the fabric using two yarns vs. just using a speckled yarn, so this might not be a fun relaxing knit for me.

But wow did it bring back nostalgia and make me want to cuddle into a cardigan and read some J. Peterman catalogs.

Monday Poem

Things are bad in America, friends, but we’re still here. This is from a collection di Prima started writing in 1968, which is really comforting for me (in a “We survived that” sense, not that they’re still applicable even today.)  You can find most of the poems as a PDF in a few places.

 

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #100
REALITY IS NO OBSTACLE
by Diane di Prima

refuse to obey
refuse to die
refuse to sleep
refuse to turn away
refuse to close your eyes
refuse to shut your ears
refuse silence when you can still sing
refuse discourse in lieu of embracement
come to no end that is not
a Beginning

 

Friday Links

1. Speaking of Minnesota, after I posted yesterday I found a mega-roundup of links and ways to donate/help, “an independent project of a lady from Minneapolis.” Check it out–StandWithMinnesota.com.

2. Speaking of Minnesota, part 2: Screenshot of a post that says, Another friend put it to me like this: "ICE has made the classic Nazi mistake. They've invaded a winter people in the winter." (from a hopeful thread on what it’s like in the Twin Cities now).

3. A wonderful thing: The darkest 10 weeks are over. An illustration of a sun rising. At the top is the text, You made it through. Below the sun are labels for Nov. 16 and Jan 22, which are in turn labeled, The 10 darkest weeks of the year.

The Helplessness Is By Design

The news out of Minnesota is so bad, friends. But as I was reading and panicking and feeling like all is already lost, I had to remember: They want us to feel like that. So don’t. Go to a rally Friday, throw money at the food pantries making deliveries or law groups stepping up, talk to your neighbors, think of wonderful things.

Here’s Mike Monteiro on those wonderful things:

Remembering and holding on to the things that make us feel wonderful are fuel. In some cases they remind us of what we’ve lost. In other cases they remind us of what we’re fighting for. And, on a really good day, they remind us of what we’re still able to achieve despite the weight of absolutely everything trying to keep us from doing so.

[…] I am listing these things out as reminders for why we fight. Your list may be very different from mine. … I bet there’s something on your list of what makes you feel wonderful that would make me feel wonderful, but it hasn’t even occurred to me! And vice versa. Maybe you’ve got spicy mango on your list. It’s wonderful, right? Maybe you’ve got a good molotov recipe. Wonderful, let’s share it.

Maybe one of us will knock an ICE goon on his ass. I guarantee that’ll feel wonderful. Like ice cream at the perfect temperature, or a Thin Mint right out of the freezer.

2026 is the year we win. That’ll feel wonderful too.

 

And here’s Winston Hearm on what it’s like in the Twin Cities right now:

Have you ever participated in disaster relief efforts? After a flood, or a hurricane, or a wildfire, or what have you? In those moments the scarcity mindset of capitalism falls away, and people collectively tap into a spirit of care, of generosity, of solidarity. Any need that can be met is, any help that is needed is satisfied.

Right now the Federal Government is the disaster, and ICE are the chaos agents, and my community is a beautiful defensive force that will not be defeated.

[…] Right now on the ground in Minnesota, the revolution has already taken place. We are not waiting for saviors. We are not waiting for heroes. We are strong enough on our own.

[…] We love each other too much, we care for each other too much to let these fuckers’ visions for the world succeed. The better futures we hoped to one day build are now present in every single act of defiance. I don’t know how this specific invasion ends, but I know that what we’re building on the ground is beautiful. I love us.

 

And here’s some cool art you can download for free (she has a lot of options!) if you feel like having some cool art:WW2 style poster with a nazi soldier behind an ice officer. Text reads, We beat 'em before... we'll beat 'em again!

How’s The Basement Coming Along?

I’m slowly getting things moved downstairs. Mid-move I had a real moment of regret about my plans for the space (“I already HAD a sewing room, what am I even doing??”) but now that it’s a little more set up, I’m extremely pleased. This will be the fancy sewing lair I dreamed about when I bought the house, uh, fifteen years ago!

A large room with a long table with 3 sewing mahchines on it against one wall. A long green cabinet is against the other wall and there is a fluffy white rug.

A desk drawer is pulled out. It's filled with thread in rainbow order.

A cabinet with green doors stands open. It is filled with folded fabric.

I still need to: move more things, make a new ironing board cover, make a new fabric-covered pinboard, get more drawer organizers, hang art, and figure out the lamps I want to use, but the fabric fits in the cabinet (whew) and the sewing machines are all down there. We’re getting close!