The Fabricated Goddess

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Put the pedal to the metal and don't look back...

De-lurking week has come and gone and I managed to squeek one comment out of a total stranger. I was hoping to flush out some of my family who are reading (so that I could be mindful of my audience) but apparently leaving a comment on a blog, on the internet, for free is not the way to go. Nope, not for my family. They call. Long distance. From their cell phones. Now, doesn't that just warm a girl's heart? I'd say so. My Auntie Mary called to say that she loved my blog (thank you) and that she was glad to see me sewing - she knew I had it in me - and to inform me that she has a line on an industrial machine that was just the very thing I need. My pulse raced. I broke out in a minor sweat. I may have even drooled a little, although I can't be quite certain because I think I temporarily blacked out from the excitement. I mean, can you imagine the canvas I could chew up with an industrial grade machine?? I don't really know what's come over me. I never in a million years thought that I could get this excited about sewing. Eight months ago I barely knew how to thread my hand-me-down machine. Now, I'm drooling at the thought of a new sewing machine, and the ever growing piles in the basement will attest to my status as a full fledged fabric hound. Maybe I'm more like my Grandma Effie than I thought. Which kind of makes me happy and kind of scares the froot loops out of me. So here's the deal: when I start hiking my homemade stretch pants up to my armpits and shouting 'NOW YOU LOOKIT HERE, KIDS' while giving you the hairy eyeball AND the finger (no, not the middle one - the index finger that indicated Effie meant business) you have my permission to shoot me. Okay?

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