When I was in high school I took a sewing class and loved it. The beautiful fabric, the magic of the machine joining pieces together, the fun of creating, all of it. I learned to put in zippers and create button holes, I made myself a cranberry wool skirt and was so pleased! I stitched several quilts, too.
Then I got busy with life and my poor sewing machine languished. I finally gave it away to a teenage girl who had big aspirations and little cash.
Last year I was given a beautiful, new, modern sewing machine. I stitched up one little craft project and that was the extent of my efforts. So when my daughter suggested that we take a sewing class at the local high school I thought it was an excellent idea. We became more familiar with our wonderful sewing machines (she has one just like mine,) and last week we actually completed a delightful project...
Pillows! I found happy fabric that looks like a wildflower garden. We created our own pattern under the watchful eye of our instructor, and beneath my hands the machine magically whipped up these gems. Much of it came back to me, the rhythm of the work had a lovely familiarity. It was such fun to be there, on a cold and rainy night, creating.
In the hall of the school an excited woman showed off an amazing basket she had made in her class, and the air was scented with cooking food from another room where a group of laughing people were experimenting with some new recipes. I think I'll need to take more of these classes. Who knows what new/old hobby I can discover next?
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