I cannot look at ANYTHING without calculating it’s potential for re-use – whether that’s old rags in ditches (see Nifty, thrifty and proud to pick things out of ditches and Gutter Hunting Finds in the sidebar) or an outgrown T shirt or even the button on that same outgrown T shirt. It’s in my blood.

Yes, half way through an impossible darn with fraying edges collapsing in on the sides as I sew, I do question this urge. I often wonder at times if it would be rather easier just to buy a new mower instead of sending out pleas on facebook for advice and then searching the internet for hours looking for obscure tools and trying to fix it myself. But actually it’s always interesting, I always learn something and I get great pleasure from keeping anything out of landfill that really needn’t be in there in the first place.

And then there is the saving money bit. Always of great interest to Old Mum. So this is a quick report on some of my most recent projects. Proving the journey is the best part of the whole process…

Rips in trousers.

Part of the brilliance of being a maker and mender is always being on the look out for free stuff. Some time ago I was in a material shop looking for scraps (known as fat quarters and used for quilting etc I discovered) and, as I like to do, loudly commented on the extreme price of a small pile of fabric squares to the nearest person to me. (No, not the shop assistant I do have some sensitivity). Conversation ensued as it so often does, and it turned out this nearest person had 6 bin bags of old scraps to get rid of. It took three bike journeys to collect them and get them all home but oh goodness, I am getting all tingly just remembering the magical moment when I opened those plain black bags.

They were sample books. From extraordinarily upmarket suppliers. Gold silk squares and exquisite linen florals flooded the floor. Laura Ashley, Liberty and Sanderson….everything from heavy brocades to the lightest chiffon. I just sat there stroking them in a dizzy daze of delight. Anyway, there were so many that I have had fabric in every possible shade for every eventuality ever since: Scraps for cushions, applique, fancy dress costumes, rag rugging – and, coming back to what I am writing about here, patching.

There are two approaches to patching:

1: Exquisite invisble darning, an art form, where you try to make the patch melt seamlessly into the existing item of clothing so the rip essentially disappears.

2: Grabbing a vaguely similar scrap of material or one in complete contrast and bunging it in as best you can with lots of stitching to keep it in place for as long as possible. (My approach).

But I have saved so many clothes this way. And even when the patch has worn away over the first bit that wore away, I refuse to give up. Trousers become shorts and when they are too short for public decency, they go into the scraps bags and start life all over again as patches themselves! And even then the story is not over! No no! The scraps from the scraps can be…COMPOSTED!! I often dig up a potato and find a beautiful shimmer of gold thread hanging from its roots….

Lovely things you can’t bear to be without.

One thing I do struggle with is cutting into existing items in perfect condition. (The too-small T shirts I mentioned are a good example). Mostly we hand them down to recipients we know will wear them and love them as much as we have, but when you have a serious emotional attachment to them, it’s hard to let go.

So I usually don’t. A good example of this was some lovely pyjamas with toadstools on them. Also Albie’s first attempt at needlework – just stitches on fabric (left pic) and risking obscurity in a old box forever  through lack of a practical use. I waited until the pyjamas had been both outgrown AND started to fray then simply combined the two into a cushion. (That’s a priceless piece of hand woven fabric from the scraps bags on the back.)

Big Things

Nothing is quite as satisfying as fixing a Really Big Thing instead of calling a plumber/electrician and spending a lot of money. And having them not turn up when they say they will. Etc. I’ve done quite a bit of this. Dug ponds (using a large pre formed pond liner we got for free. My friend had to collect it from a house 8 miles away and cycle back wearing it on his back  – he did look exactly like a giant turtle cycling through the city centre), wired broken ceiling lights, glued back things that fall off furniture etc etc.  I am still haunted by the time the washing machine broke and the engineer literally flicked the drainage hose with his little finger and charged a £55 call out fee. I got a very warm glow when my friend told me recently how she’d actually fixed a broken door on hers with a few Youtube videos and a screwdriver.

But as I said, it’s the journey that makes these projects so satisfying, so I will end with the briefest tale of my recent mower woes:

It kept cutting out. I realised that my habit of yanking the cable forcefully whenever it got caught on trees/garden benches/rocks may have been a contributing factor. This is bad news. A mower, unlike a giant pond, is not able to be transported to a mower shop, should I be able to find one, on a bike and previous experience has taught me that the most likely news is that it’s a “sealed unit” and they “can’t do anything anyway”. Then you have to buy a whole new one – hassle, hassle, hassle – and somehow dispose of the old one which likely has nothing wrong with it apart from a pulled wire somewhere.

Luckily mine had some kind of screw holding the control box on the handle together. I tried every allen key, knife, spoon, rocks – anything I could find to undo it – but they were a weird star shape and nothing worked. I emailed the manufacturer and thy told me on no account to touch it.

So I turned to a local Stuff for Sale Facebook group because I have found that this is by far the quickest way to get an answer to almost anything you can think of. Tip: Make your question funny or self deprecating. People are scrolling through other people’s tat often because they are bored. They feel compelled to help out if you offer some small entertainment to break up the monotony.

Such an interesting half hour was spent, as I sat back while people (men, mainly bikers or builders) joined in from all corners of Yorkshire debating the best tool amongst themselves: “It’s a T30 you dork, wouldn’t want to send my Harley over to your workshop if you’re only using the T29s!” Occasionally I idly checked out the odd profile pic and one or two of my helpers were very pleasing to look at, so I thanked them particularly profusely and asked the odd idiotic question to see if anything might come of it… (it didn’t).

Anyway I learned all about a fascinating new tool called a Torque, which I had never heard of before, and not only that, but the exact size I needed to buy and best place to get it – while greatly enjoying the whole process.

In the end I bought an entire set of Torques, with all the Ts, for under a fiver and then asked a friend to sort it all out while I took the dog out.

The mower now works.