I failed home-ec. Well, not failed, failed, but it was my worst grade in high school. No real surprise, right? I remember making a pair of shorts and my mom REFUSING to let me wear them, even around the house, they were so bad. So I didn't sew. For a long time. Then, when we lived in Portland, I got a wild hair up my butt and decided to buy a sewing machine and relearn. So I did buy one...I just never used it. I had a lot of "I can'ts" going on in my mind. When we found out we were pregnant, I decided to make a blanket. I pulled out the machine and just COULD NOT DO IT. The machine kept messing up. So I sold it to a friend (with full disclosure of its stupidity) and bought a second machine. Guess what? Yup. Different brand, same stupidity. I finally clued in that maybe it was me...
Last Wednesday I pulled my machine out for the first time since I bought that second machine in San Diego. Sharon came over and we had a sewing afternoon. I appreciate her method to sewing because it's all about making things look good in the end, even if that means making things easier and less technically right WHILE sewing. I can get on board with that. So, while Sharon was making a FABULOUS apron out of a thrifted skirt (seriously cute), I pulled out one of my new books and sat down to make my first thing since 9th grade home-ec. And while I had to have Sharon "fix" the stupidity problems my machine has and talk me through it, I did it. I made my first thing. And it's cute! And functional! And I'm totally loving this new found I can make things thing.
I needed a little bag in my purse for all things lip gloss, hand sanitizer, etc. Sharon made one I loved, so I bought
this book and made one for myself.
Ta Da!

The inside folded down:

I also bought
this book and in it, there are instructions on how to make a pup tent. So, this morning, I whipped one up for Sammy. Go me!

It's even Sammy approved:



I have no illusions of grandeur. None. I'm not going to suddenly be an amazing seamstress. But now I can make the occasional bag or pillow and not think the sewing gods are cursing at me from on high...