And sew on, and sew on ...

I gave my mother the second best thing to a grandchild for Christmas last year -- I asked her for a sewing machine. My memories of sewing go back to grade school when she made me my very own "designer" E.T. costume for Halloween. I still remember the plush alien hand with the red felt finger tip that sat on top of my real hand by just an elastic band. You better believe I phoned home with that on! When I got older, I took a sewing class at the local extension office and learned how to make a mini skirt (and matching hair scrunchy!). I could not WAIT to wear that to the dance at that year's summer camp. After I had a handful of classes under my belt, mom and I started working on projects together. One of the first I can remember was one of those quilted, boxy purses that every girl in junior high had. I'm pretty sure the fad was over by the time we got it done. And since then, I've added many a home-made costume and bridesmaid dress to my closet, thanks to mom's machine.

So last year, with the growing need for sewing buttons on, finding a hobby and looking for a creative outlet, I started hearing the sewing machine call my name, which led me to calling mom and telling her I'd put "sewing machine" on my Christmas wish list. My wish was granted.

In the last 10 months, I've taken a sewing class to freshen up on my skills and I've experimented with a couple projects. I had no idea how much I had forgotten. But there was one thing I had remembered, and it's still so true today: the seam ripper is my friend. I've been working on a small project, and last night I swear I spent more time ripping out seams than sewing. It was completely frustrating, but it was also rewarding to figure out my mistake and correct it (three tries later). All by myself. Watch out Martha.

Sew long.
Carrie