OK, here it is: the second instalment of a two-part series of posts about irons. Riveting stuff, right? It's exciting to me, anyway. I long ago stopped pretending that this blog is anything but a vanity project through which to indulge my whims and interests in a semi-anonymous format; as you might have gathered from … Continue reading Ironing It Out
Please note that this is part one of what I swear will be a two-post series. I'm serious this time. Bear with me. In the list of sewing-related activities I dislike, a very close second to cutting is ironing. For the purposes of this post, which isn't a how-to but rather an opportunity for me … Continue reading Wrinkles
When I was ten or so, my mom sewed a solstice dress for me to wear to winter solstice rituals. (I won’t elaborate on the yearly event, but think “simulated birth canal.”) I still have that magnificent gown, which is in a purple 1990s celestial print that could be mistaken for nothing but a relic … Continue reading Curse of the Solstice Gown
If the last three shirts I’ve sewn are anything to go by, it’s safe to say that I’m squarely in my camp-collar era. It all started, of course, with the Gilbert. Next was the Donny. For months, I kept seeing Friday Pattern Company’s Donny Shirt while perusing other people’s finished objects on Instagram. IG’s algorithm … Continue reading Oh Donny Boy
Before I get caught up in a million project recaps, I'm going to make good on my promise to maintain the disability component of DMS. This feels important because the more time passes, the more I realize that accessibility-related considerations play into almost everything I do, hobbies included. Not always in a bad way, though: … Continue reading Cutting It Out
The more time passes, and the more consistently secure I feel in where things have settled with my health and my daily rhythms, the more aware I’ve become of how different my life is now as compared to how it was when I published my first De Morbo Sacro post eons ago. Back then, epilepsy … Continue reading From DMS to … DMS
When my power chair and I hit 100, it felt like a significant milestone in the coming together of one soul and one motor. We'd bonded in those first 100 km, and I remember being sure that it was impossible for woman and machine to be any closer unless in a cyborg situation such as … Continue reading When 2 Become 1,000
Hell hath no fury like a woman with a full bladder and nowhere to empty it. Scrap that: hell hath no fury like a wheelchair-using woman waiting for someone to vacate the only accessible stall in a public washroom with plenty of unoccupied toilets. And can you blame her/them/me? It's hard enough to locate a … Continue reading Stalled
At the end of an especially frustrating day earlier this week, I found myself struggling to accept how little I’d accomplished. All afternoon, I’d flitted from one task to another, never able to spend more than fifteen minutes on any given thing before getting lost in the news or rolling to the kitchen for a … Continue reading (Un)burdened
I kind of hate the whole April Fool's Day thing. It left me on edge as a kid—would I wake up to find the classic plastic wrap over the toilet bowl, or would it be a booby-trapped-bedroom-door year?—and now, as an adult, I find little humour in the surge of joke-adjacent promotional emails that flood … Continue reading April, No Fool(ing)
De Morbo Sacro: Life and/with Epilepsy 