Sunday, February 6, 2011

The sewing machine is not to be feared.


Greg and I bought a camper the summer after we were married. It's not a fancy thing, but it's not a hell hole, either. We've used it several times, mostly at the pond in the woods at the farm, but we've taken her out in public, too. Here's a picture:


Shortly after we bought the camper, I decided that it could be cheaply and easily spruced up by adding some curtains. I could buy the fabric, sit down at the sewing machine, and voila! So, I measured the windows and picked out some fabric. Then, I remembered: I'm afraid to sew.

Well, maybe "afraid" is a strong word. Generally speaking, I don't like to do things I'm not good at, and sewing fits into that category. It all started when I was nine years old. Years, from now, when I'm in therapy, I'll blame 4-H. You see, my mom is a fantastic seamstress. So wonderful, she makes it look easy. I signed up for my first 4-H sewing project, and I was confident that I would quickly mimic her abilities. I was wrong.

Year after year, I signed up for sewing projects, and I never quite got the knack of it. Those projects inflicted much trauma. I don't think it was so much that I couldn't sew; it was more that I didn't like the deadline or constraints of a project. The final straw, and the end of my 4-H sewing career, was when I was sewing buttons on pajamas as my mom drove me to judging. Then and there she declared, "You're not taking a sewing project next year."

Fast forward nearly 10 years, and the fabric for my curtains that I bought a year and half ago, was still sitting untouched. I knew I had to do something. Since Greg and I do not have our own sewing machine, he brought home his mom's one day. (To add to my emotional complex, Greg can sew. He's not going to win any blue ribbons, but he sews more than I do, patching his chore clothes and such.) It sat on the dining room table taunting me for weeks. Finally, this week when we had a snow day, I decided I was going to do it.

I started timidly at first, but I gained power with each stitch. I realized that I am what I call a functional seamstress. My creations might not win awards, but they get the job done. I actually had quite a bit of fun, and it was even a bit relaxing. With each curtain that I sewed, more and more of my mom's lessons came back.

So I how did I do? Here are before and after pictures of our camper's kitchen window. The curtains definitely jazz the place up. I was so inspired by the project that we've decided to buy a sewing machine. I might get the hang of it yet.


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