The last frontier

Yesterday at 11:45, the doorbell rang. I was expecting a very important package that I thankfully didn't have to wait very long for (Amazon Prime trial...two-day shipping is just enough to build the anticipation, and not long enough for me to get impatient). So anyway, I ran down the stairs, flung open the door and snatched my box, which was in the neighborhood of two-by-two and about 30 pounds. Also, I was wearing a towel, and it was about 20 degrees.

After much awkward scuttling backwards so as not to drop my box (or my towel), I managed to get the door shut and scoot back upstairs. You probably want to know what was in this box, huh? THIS!!

I've decided to become a sewer. Wait a minute. Sew-er. Someone who sews. After scoffing at the very idea in high school (when I really should have been taking a sewing class and not being such a teenager) I've realized that sewing is the last DIY frontier for me.

I'm not claiming to be stellar at any of these things, but I can do basic electrical work, build decent-looking furniture, strip and stain wood, paint, grow stuff, cook, decorate, operate power tools without losing appendages, and change a flat tire. When I needed sewing done, I shipped fabric to my mom so she could make curtains, pestered my MIL until she had time to take in shirts or paid someone to do my alterations. (Much more expensive in Oregon than LA.) NOT ANYMORE!

Me and my nifty sewing machine are going to conquer the world! Luckily, I have a friend who seems like an expert to me, and she showed me how to thread the thing last night. I'm sure it'll take a while before I feel really confident with it, but making curtains and pillowcases and taking in the odd t-shirt isn't exactly rocket science.