Eventful weekend. I am learning to sew. No, even better - I am teaching myself to sew. As I am swiftly approaching my 29th birthday and realizing I have yet to even warm up the sewing machine I bought with last year's birthday vouchers from John Lewis, I had an epiphany - Being able to sew on a button is just not that impressive. So, I embraced a trip to a local craft shop full of fabrics and eager crafters and took the plunge. I bought fabric. It was exhilarating.
Thanks to the [ever so talented so much better than Martha softie doll creator extraordinaire] Hillary Lang of Wee Wonderfuls, I was able to create my first softie - a bunny. The pattern booklet arrived in the mail last week and the glossy pages of creations-to-be excited me to no end. The clincher? I had no idea where to even begin.
Firstly, hats off to handsome man 'o mine. He taught me to use my new sewing machine. Did I mention the man cooks, cleans, makes my lunch daily and irons my work clothes? Yes, every single day. And, no you may not rent him and no he is definitely not gay. He is something closely resembling perfection and I am completely smitten as a kitten. I can say that he grew up with a grandmother that knitted his action men sweaters and she definitely had sewing machines in use throughout his childhood. It was his mum that taught me last Christmas to knit. I reminded him how fortunate he is to have had this teaching despite being more interested in football and making hot air balloons out of trash bags and small explosives. My own mother was more interested in bowling and playing bunko. I cannot say I blame her and my father for leaving us with babysitters - we were an unruly pair growing up. Starving for attention more than anything.
Mechanics aside, I managed to trace over my newly expiring bunny
pattern and cut out the patterns. By this time, pink softness and tiny
fleece shoes were taking shape and I could barely contain myself.
My project ended with many hiccups but I consider it a trial run. And for a first creation ever, even as a profectionist, I am pleased. By easter, I hope to have perfected a little bunny that my niece may call her own - it will fit perfectly with a set of my favorite series of children's books called Lettuce the Rabbit by Mandy Stanley.
I may just have embraced my inner Martha Stewart.