I bought a sewing machine.
As in like that thing that my mom used to make me toil over every, single summer for like 900 years preparing an outfit to model at the 4-H fashion show in August.
As in that thing for which hate is a weak word to describe the loathing I had for it.
I've been looking for a machine since January but have held off buying because I was just sure if I had one in my home, I'd alternately have anxiety attacks and PTSD.
But, buy one I did, and even though I left it in the box for ten days after I bought it, after being called out for it during Relief Society, I totally took it out and learned how to thread it.
Threading = easy peasy.
I also bought a yard of two different fleece patterns.
Mostly so I could sew up a blanket and bolster my confidence.
Because really, how hard can it be to sew in straight lines?
Not hard at all, but you know what is hard?
Cutting in a straight line.
Even with the help of a cutting board, ruler, measuring tape, and a rotary cutter used all at the same time.
This college educated girl can't figure out how to square the material or how to make it match up when I'm trying to pin the two pieces together.
I've cut, pinned, unpinned, re-cut, re-pinned three times so far.
And it still isn't working.
If I keep this up, all I'll have left is a fleece table runner.
Now I remember why I hated sewing...
The good news is, Carolyn doesn't feel the same way.
Perhaps there's hope in the Peters' fam after all.