For some people, the simple act of sewing at the machine is a moment of zen. The needle whips in and out of the fabric, making perfect seams and hems, straight lines and sweeping curves appear in thread as if by magic.
I am not one of these people.
Don’t get me wrong, I love to sew. When it’s all going well, and I feel a bit like a domestic goddess, it’s a wonderful thing that puts me in a wonderful mood. In fact, even when it all goes a bit wrong, I still end up in a good mood.
I do tend to swear though.
Today, sewing up some tiny petals for the flowers I’m making, it went like this:
*machine noise* *sound of machine munching the fabric* oh you DICK *snipping sounds* Oh for fucks sake just SEW IT *slow machine sound* *speeding up as everything looks good* *stopping machine to turn fabric* *VVTVTTVTTV sound of needle hitting stuck fabric* OH YOU SHITTING PIECE OF SHIT *foot goes up with a clunk* *sound of hand winding machine* How about NOW you pile of crap? *slam of foot going down* *fast machine* *pulling and snipping threads* Do that again and I’ll scrap you you bastard. *sound of machine* *sound of fabric getting munched* OH YOU SHITTING PILE OF SHIT FUCK FUCK STOP IT
So relaxing, you guys.


Here’s my poor old dog eared chart. The yellow is attempt 1, the orange is the final attempt, and the blue is attempt numero two.