I hemmed three sides of three rectangular small squares of material, left the fourth (for now) unhemmed along the white fringy edge of the fabric, draped them over the window, and called them my first curtains.  I sent pictures to several who replied that they did not see the curtains in the pictures. I could tell our landlady, who stopped in to see what I was doing with the place, was a little underwhelmed.  I think that perhaps, if I dress it up with ‘real’ fringe, it will generate a little more awe in those who witness the spectacle.  The problem with making them longer is that then it shuts out the light.  I am supposed to be protecting the house against the cold.  Ha. and Ha. Ha. again.  I spit me of winter.  I would rather be cold than in darkness.

They are a masterpiece of unmasterfulness; having no proper measuring utensils.  Like the cavemen I used a blunt pair of scissors, a length of hair from my enemies, and my opposable thumbs.  The material though you can’t see it from here, is a soft velvety thing, like butterfly wings — except that butterfly wings are much smaller, frailer, and more papery.  It is like — the shag that hangs from the antlers of elk.  Or the furry elephant creeper.   Perhaps analogies from nature are not the most analogous.  But it is very nice, soft material.

I sewed them on my first ‘own’ machine, a Janome toy (advertised as being ‘not just a toy machine’) for beginners with illustrated instructions, which not even I could figure out how to mess up.  The machine is lightweight, superbly easy to use, and is obviously made to withstand the rigors of even real curtains.  I highly recommend it.