Such a small matter for me to complain about....
I bought some loverly red plaid wool with the vision of a glorious messenger bag in my head. I bought a pattern that I thought would be quick and easy. And with both of those purchases, I bought a lesson as well. The kind that you only get through hours of work, a sore neck, needle-stuck fingers, and a great big pile of nothing that makes you scoop it up to throw it away while your mother looks on and meekly says "Uh oh." Yes, after five and a half hours of work I had nothing to show for it except a bag where the fabric refused to be part of a seam, and wacky measurements that didn't line up. I stuffed it into the wastebasket and went to bed. Then, a little while later, I started to feel bad. For the fabric (yes, I know--craaazy!)...but I kept thinking how I had treated this beautiful fabric so terribly when it wasn't ITS fault the pattern was crummy and my fingers just couldn't make it work. So I got out of bed and rescued it and readied myself for one more go, older and wiser. When I went to give it a second go tonight, I realized there was no way it would work with my already cut fabric, no matter how I tried to wiggle it all into place. So, I decided to make myself a mini-tote (the only thing besides a wristlet I had enough fabric for. Now that I'm thinking of it a wristlet would have been adorable....have to visit the wastebasket again). So here are a few pics of the drama:
The wreck I tried to make work, but just could not
The miniature tote I ended up with.
I am keeping this as a reminder that no matter what the vision, no matter how much effort is poured into something, sometimes it just doesn't work out. But you can keep working with what you have and still have something that's worth it. And that no matter what your problem of the moment is, something is always worse. Much, much worse...like Haiti, for example. I was in bed listening to the radio and the reporter was talking about how thousands of Haitians went to church yesterday, and were raising their voices in prayer and song, praying for relief but also thanking God they were still alive. And I felt really stupid. Because I was upset that a bag I don't need wasn't working out on the new sewing machine I just bought myself (bought for no good reason other than I wanted it).
I made my donation to the Red Cross' Haitian relief fund, older, and wiser, and humbler.
My next post should be a little more light-hearted--I was tagged by Meream so I have to go find an old photo that fits the bill...
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