Re-upholstered bathroom stool

Our bathroom stool was moving from 'looking tired' towards 'no longer functional'.  The time had come to re-cover the seat!

I found some instructions that looked workable but I didn't have enough vinyl to do it without buying more.  A check of TradeMe revealed that vinyl is surprisingly expensive.  What to do?

Just then, Martin had to go out.  He went outside then popped back in to pick up a piece of bicycle inner tube rubber, marvelling as he did so that they seemed to be an inexhaustible resource around here.  Ah ha!  I bet they'd make a nice wipeable cover for our stool :-)

A quick internet search revealed that others had had this idea before me.  At first I thought I'd follow these instructions, but Martin thought a woven top would be nicer and I could always seal the edge with more inner tube, rather than metal.  (Aren't the prices being charged for those commercially-available stools astonishing!!)

So, I set to and ripped off the old vinyl.

I pieced together some scraps of vinyl to protect the foam from any drips of water that might make it through the woven cover;

then wove strips of inner tube together in situ;

and finished it with a strip of inner tube around the sides.

 

All up it only took me two 'up times' (a bit under two hours) and was immensely satisfying!  Photos of the whole process are on flickr.

Brick by Brick

A little something we found amusing.

For the latest game you have to go to the Guardian's own page.

I don't believe in Bible verses

Earlier this week, Martin and I came across this in our morning reading:

²² The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,

    his mercies never come to an end;
²³ they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

I know these words as part of a popular hymn/song: one that I have always taken as affirming that things will generally go well for me because of God's love for me.  And yet look at where they show up: in the middle of one of Jeremiahs' laments following the destruction of Jerusalem.

Located there, those words are so very powerful.  Jeremiah is trusting in God's steadfast love, mercy and faithfulness in the midst of destruction.

That song I know so well certainly contains Bible verses but, by taking them in isolation, it makes them sound as if they say something ever so much safer than the original.

I've come across so many examples like this in recent years and they all make me a bit angry.  I no longer believe in Bible verses.  You can find verses that say more or less anything.  The truth of the Bible is contained in bigger chunks: paragraphs, chapters, books.  Verses are just too small.

Sewing gifts

From time to time I like to share photos of gifts I have made - like these booties I made for Martin's cousin's new baby.

However, there are other gifts I make that I don't tend to photograph.  Here are some of those that I've been working on recently.

blanket stitching to stabilise fraying edge of an old towel

stitching together snapped vinyl strips on my belt

As I sew these things, I feel good about the gift I am giving to the people of Bangladesh: the gift of fertile farmland, of fresh drinking water, of children living to a healthy adulthood.

I'm sure I started mending things due to my natural frugality and aversion to waste.  However, as I've learned about climate change I've come to realise that buying new stuff requires lots of energy and hence the burning of a lot of fossil fuels.

This past year, I was shocked to realise that our carbon footprint was significantly up on the previous audit year, even though it was down in most categories.  The difference: we'd bought a similar amount of household goods as in previous years, but had tended to buy new rather than second hand.  Since then, mending and buying second hand has taken on a new impetus.  It's such a simple way to give other people a better chance in life and I'm grateful to have the skills, time and resources to be able to do it.

Fantail

I've been enjoying watching this fellow in recent days as he flits about in our quince tree.  He seems to be there most times I'm in the kitchen.  He (or she) moves fast, though, so this was the best photo I could get!

New glasses

My old ones snapped in two about 10 days ago, and I received the new ones yesterday.  It's quite a different look, but I think I like it :-)  Also, we had absolutely fantastic service from Specsavers New Lynn: no hard sell, prompt service and they really put themselves out to accomodate me and my slightly unusual glasses requirements!  Highly recommended.

Euthanasia

This week I listened to an Ideas programme from Radio New Zealand National on Euthanasia.  The same arguments for euthanasia that I have heard elsewhere came up in the programme: it gives people control over their lives, and people should have a way out if they don't want to be a burden on their families.  As a Christian, I wish to reject both those arguments: control of our lives (including their ending) belongs to God, and independence is not a virtue.

However Dr. Rodney Syme, the last speaker to be interviewed, made an intriguing point that was quite new to me.  He is pro-euthanasia and has dealt with many patients who have wished to end their own lives.  In his experience it is only the middle class and well-educated who want euthanasia - the poor don't seem to ask for it and he doesn't know why.  I wonder if it is because control and independence are luxuries of the middle class?  The poor have never been allowed to feel that they are in control of their lives, and they need to be interdependent in order to survive, so illness can't take from them things they never had anyway...

Dr Sinead Donnelly, who spoke from the anti-euthanasia perspective, also made a point that made me think.  She talked about exploring with patients what makes their lives unbearable and working in her practice as a palliative care doctor to relieve the causes of their suffering so that they no longer want to die.  It reminded me of my perspective on abortion: we need to create a world where people are able to carry their pregnancies to term, not just prevent them from ending them.  What do we, as a society, need to do so that those with incurable illnesses feel able to go on with their lives?


As something of an aside, I was startled to realise that, were I to have a different attitude to my CFS, I would qualify for euthanasia under the legislation currently in the private members bill ballot in New Zealand.  You have to be over the age of 18, have an untreatable (rather than simply terminal) condition and consider your suffering to be unbearable.  Many people with CFS in New Zealand appear to meet that latter condition, too, even if I do not.