Captain's Log #25 - The Child's Kimono

3/6/18

Open House at my house…

This past Sunday we had a family of Blue Birds and White Faced Nuthatches investigate the bird house 40’ outside our kitchen window. And as always, buyers come in clumps. I hope they’re not too uncomfortable about a ‘multiple offer’ situation, although in this case I think: ‘possession is nine-tenths of the law.’ No further inspections or moving trucks, yet.

Last Days

I’ve been officially ‘between jobs’ for 2 ½ weeks. About a month before I left I had requested a meeting with my supervisor asking her to give me a review, as she would any permanent employee, because I wanted her to come to the conclusion about how much I had improved. It didn’t go as planned. She was unprepared, couldn’t find the form online, had to dig in her file cabinet and surfaced with the paper records of our disciplinary conversations. She allowed as how I was doing good work, and was a big help to one of the employees, then she launched into all the past grievances, plus how some people feel like I act superior (well, they got that right) and ended with “I, and others, have noticed that you come in a few minutes late and stay late a few minutes. I want you to be at your desk and ready to work at 8:00!” Where did that come from? I replied “Glad to know. I’ll fix that.” Then I handed her some documents I had prepared for an important project, she was extremely grateful. I wonder if I shouldn’t have led with that?

The word of whether my contract would be extended dragged out, “maybe, but so-and-so needs to talk with so-and-so.” In the end it was, “Sorry, we did all we could.” Honestly, I’m happy not to be there although my last week was touching. People were either wishing me well and “we’ll miss you,” or looking at me like I’d been diagnosed with an incurable disease. I guess that’s supposed to be pity, as in “I’m so sorry you have to leave and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Ok, whatever. Usually for a Last Day the department has a pot luck, the guest of honor picks the theme then there’s a collective paroxysm of stress: planning or cooking or picking up donuts. This time I hosted a yogurt bar in my office and brought my spinning wheel; the people who like me came in a chatted and tried the wheel, they gave me a card and a blooming  Phalaenopsis orchid. Nice.

Since then I’ve done a lot of research about interview questions. It turns out that Behavioral Questions are popular as in: “Describe a time when you realized you needed to make an improvement in your communication skills and how you managed it.” Huh?  It’s totally unfair not to give these questions out in advance. It’s a game of Gotcha. So we applicants try to prepare in advance. I’ve collected 32 questions and have distilled my answers to fit on the back of 3x5 cards. I-am-so-sick-of-myself. For relief I’ve done a little Spring cleaning, a little gardening, knitting and reorganized my closet, “this for work, this really needs to be retired. All this other stuff (my really nice things) go in my costume closet in the other room.” I need another closet. A small pile for Goodwill, including a child’s kimono I bought 20+ years ago.

The Kimono

The kimono sat  neatly folded on my bed. I hated to part with it but it was too small and it turns out that adults do not wear anything tomato-red. Still, it’s my color… I picked it up and carefully spread it out. It had been made with pleats that were to be let out as the young girl grew. The bottoms of the sleeves were a little grubby so it had been worn on multiple occasions. What kind of holidays and festivals had it seen? Happy family gatherings? Lunar New Years? Girls Festivals? Cherry Blossom Festivals? Did she meet her girlfriends? What did they eat?

This red child’s kimono could have been a gift from a wealthy relative, who? It was so full of hope and promise and good wishes, I could almost conjure the little girl before me. Why didn’t you let it out? Why did you put it away? How long was it stored before the decision was made to sell it or give it away? Did your folks ‘downsize’ and told you to come deal with your stuff? Were you sad to part with it? This was getting a little spooky, like I could connect with her just by holding her garment. In another Log I talked about hearing voices… it was like that.

It was so unnerving I had to put it down but was determined to take it apart and make a blouse. Easier said than done. It was entirely hand-stitched with a million tiny stitches, some seams sewn with three different colors of silk thread. That thing was built like Fort Knox! With all the time it took to take it apart I got in touch with the multiple seamstresses who sewed it and made  the pleats; the fabric printer/dyer, the factory; the fabric designer as it has a stretchy, crepe-like hand; where was the cotton interfacing grown? I could stand in the field under the sun, feel the wind, my feet wet with irrigation. (I had to get out of there quick or I’d be put to work.) I was liberating this fabric from its past, freeing all the people in its creation and giving it new life. In the end I had 4 or 5 yards of 28” wide fabric that I ran through the washer and dryer, then pressed.

I have a blouse pattern I was able to modify. Because the fabric is so narrow I had to piece the front through a vertical pleat and make a seam though the sleeve plackets – problems solved.

Well, I’ve got 3 jobs to apply for online today, after that it’s back to the Child’s Blouse.

Thanks for hanging in there with me, please let me know what you’re up to.

Many blessings,

Karla, mom & k.j.

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