Feeling Domestic

Confession time: I sew. I wanted to be a fashion designer growing up (and a Senator and President of the US... still do in fact) Sewing is not something I do that often anymore because I've got a house full of little curious hands and a dog that eats sewing needles, so I can't leave the stuff out anymore. One day, I'll have a guest room where I can leave stuff out and shut the door. Flashback: My parents bought me a professional use sewing machine for my 15th birthday and I loved it. Used the thing to death! It died while we were living in the Dollhouse on the Freeway. (A teeny tiny house on the 134 fwy in LA) I sobbed and sobbed and cried and cried because a new machine was going to be a ton of $$$$. My mother-in-law intervened and loaned me her old Singer machine. That machine was a workhorse and plowed through countless projects. It made slipcovers for 2 couches, a loveseat, 4 chairs, and 6 dining room chairs. And nursery bedding, curtains, duvets, and countless throw pillows. Last October I pulled it out for some alterations on a halloween costume to find it limping along. My sewing machine repairman put his hand on my shoulder and said, "It's time to put her to rest, she's 30 plus years old" I went home to Mr. Man and told him, my old pal was gone. He said, "Go pick out a new machine, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Birthday" And so I did, and this new machine is awesome. I've rediscovered my love of sewing.

I recently inherited some vintage napkins, and decided to turn them into Aprons. There is something about wearing a pretty apron that makes me feel a little more spunky and puts me in a good mood. I think Aprons are the new Prozac for desperate housewives everywhere...