I was laughing at myself a little while ago. I remembered I was going to sell my sewing machine. I was angry and no longer had time to sew. I was going to change my world and my world did not include the hokey craft of sewing. This was many many years ago and obviously I kept the sewing machine or I wouldn't have a sewing blog. I thought about that thought for a moment as I have a room full of fabric, patterns, and notions waiting to transform into clothes. A complete, planned out wardrobe for work. Pants, tops, skirts, and matching cardigans. Instead I've sewn two Halloween costumes and a retro party dress. I've replaced a zipper in a coat and will replace some letters on a football jersey. The work wardrobe waits and hangs over my head, but the point is, I still have time to sew.
That's the laugh. I remember how I felt that day. I didn't want to sew anymore. It was a useless, dated "hobby" that never profited me. In reality, it hasn't. I've not become rich repairing a little girl's dress, countless costumes and uniforms, dance troupe skirts, the list would continue back in time to a full wardrobe for my niece as well as my son. However, sometimes it feels like some other wordly magic occurs when I hold up a finished piece regardless of what it is, a quilt, a dress, shorts, a skirt, a uniform, scrubs. It is an amazing act of giving that cannot be measured or duplicated.
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