this cutie over at Amy a la Mode. It looked utterly do-able, I had everything I needed on hand, and it only had three pattern pieces. Even I couldn't screw it up, right?
Bear with me for a moment. Let me tell you about my sewing machine.
My machine and I have a classic love-hate relationship. I bought her at a thrift shop in Rochester for thirty bucks (love). I got home and discovered that she didn't so much have a presser foot (hate). I took it to my repair guy, and he said that he could fix her up for cheap (love). His "cheap" and my "cheap" were in different tax brackets (hate). I got her home and she worked like a charm (love). Except that, really, I didn't know how to sew (hate). But I could fake it with the best of them, and I made all manner of cool things (love). In spite of the fact that the thread breaks roughly every thirty stitches and the bobbin thread cuts out every minute or so for reasons entirely unknowable to me, the repair guy, or anyone else. (DOUBLE HATE).
So this week's sewing session, like every sewing session, I'm afraid, was punctuated with colorful words I can't be persuaded to print here. The final product does serve its purpose, and it's even pretty, in its own wonky little way. But I'm starting to wonder whether I should leave the fabric arts to those more competent than myself and stick to my tried and true instant gratification dealios.
It's been a very. long. week. (Yes, I know it's Monday...)