Well, kids, I've gotten the pattern pinned and cut out. As I was sitting on the floor sticking myself with stick pins, I was hoping it would all come back to me like riding a bicycle. It did not. I've cut two pieces where I should have one and I certainly hope I've got my turkeys all lined up in the right direction. Too late, if not.
I was trying to energize myself for the task by bring back positive memories of sewing. I envisioned my Grandma Malmberg. In my mind she is sitting at her cabinet sewing machine. (Is that what it's called? It was in a cabinet thing. You used your knee to make it go.) Her brow is screwed up and she is swearing . . . as much as a Baptist swears.
I tried envisioning my mother. She is sitting at the dining room table with her table top machine. Her brow is screwed up and she is swearing actual swear words . . . and throwing things.
I don't think this type of project is in my blood.
Rise above your heritage! You can do it! And then you can open a fancy etsy shop where you sell seasonal aprons.
ReplyDeleteIf you've saved the wine I brought over for dinner - now is a perfect time to crack it open and try it out. Although the lowered inhibition may result in an increase in language not conducive to a rural, middle-America woman crafting for such a family-focused event.
ReplyDeleteI love aprons and applaud your efforts. My apron says "2.4 bottles of wine to naked" which greatly makes me giggle, but may not be suitable for family gatherings. Although my family probably wouldn't be all that surprised....
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