It happens every time. The next item on my list of Things to Make rears its persistent little head, and I am gripped by the need to make it real. It dances through my daydreams, hovers in the margins of my grocery lists, and vies with Real Life for my attention. I know the drill. I round up the fabrics, the notions, and--- finally! the time to put it all together.
No time for measuring, for trimming, for pressing! No time to snip those wayward threads, to change the bobbin color! I am in a frenzy to bring this thing from frontal lobe to fingertips. The first one is the wonky one. Its seams are off, its corners not quite square. Its zipper isn't topstitched, and I'm good with that. The wonky one is proof that I can do it, the dress rehearsal of my daily drama. It will join its many serviceable fellows serving countless sensible purposes in the corners of our home. And when my daughter squeals, "This is so cute! You could give it to so-and-so..." she's not surprised by my reply. "Not that one...that's the wonky one."