Sewing

Sorry for the non-existent blogging this weekend. My in-laws were here and it was great fun but did not facilitate blogging. The Verbalist got a new bike: a real bike with training wheels. In the great circle of life that means that the Muralist now has exclusive use of the tricycle. Let the races begin! Now that both children are equipted with wheels there is the possibility that I can face the Rube Goldberg Device of Terror with only the Infant for an audience.

The RGD of T is a sewing machine. A basic Singer, it still has more levers, widgits and knobs than I am comfortable with. My sister and I have reached our thirties with a deep seated dread that we will somehow Mess It Up. Perhaps we will thread it wrong, break needles or generally have parts fly off and and smoke rise from the flaming wreckage. I sat down yesterday convinced I would need safety goggles.

My mother-in-law sews or Sews with the capital. She sat down and gave a quick but thorough tutorial on use. Told us what to know and lever did what and told us not to touch the settings on some. Then, under her benevolent gaze, I sewed about 4 lines of straight stitches. It is still set up waiting for me now that she is gone. Safety Goggles? Check.