Divided Basket

My friend A loves color and pattern. She also wants her things, and her kids' things, to be organized. I've made several fabric baskets for her to contain mail, Legos, and random items. Today I finished a fabric basket with an internal divider for holding board books and toys between the carseats in the back of the car. By piecing the canvas lining instead of beginning with one large rectangle, I was able to insert the dividing panel in partially-sewn seams right before joining the lining to the outside of the bucket. I'm pleased that my puzzling skills yielded the result I intended. That doesn't always happen with fresh projects.

Halloween Bucket

My new nephew is gearing up for his first Halloween. He plans to go around the neighborhood dressed as a penguin. Even though he's only a little over 4 months old, folks are sure to give him candy. He'll need a place to store it until he eats that kind of food, or has teeth, for that matter. I reprised a cute scarecrow applique-patterned fabric bucket for the job. Made exactly according to the pattern, it still looks different from the same bucket I made for my son and another made for an older nephew. Once again, I prove to myself that I really do need to keep buying fresh fabric. That way, when I repeat old patterns, the result still looks brand new.

This Is Why We Don't Have Pets

The month after my first child was born, I got it in my head that I needed a new hobby. It would need to be something I could do while the baby napped, an event I imagined would happen so regularly and in such length that I would need a meaty hobby to fill my vast spare time. So, I bought a sewing machine. I planned to make marvelous quilts and assorted items for my home, so I splurged on a glorious German sewing machine. The truth of young children allowed years of dust to gather on the machine, but I've sewn and quilted periodically over the years. Since launching a farmers' market business, the machine chugs along nearly every day....until now. In one week, the fuse has blown on a circuit board the company no longer makes, and the bobbin hook has failed completely. Somehow, my geeky husband replaced the fuse (after taking this colorful reference photo of the guts of the sewing machine), and the hook was swapped out. The lady at Sew Sassy who replaced the damaged bobbin hook advised me to start researching a replacement machine. I don't want a replacement. I want my regular machine; I know how it works; I know how it sounds. My fingers find the function buttons without my eyes needing to look for them. I am experiencing the hobby version of stages of grief over the impending loss of my best tool and toy, and I don't like it. The whole process of frustration and denial and grief reminds me why we don't have real pets. My sewing machine has been my pet, and it will be some time before a replacement feels as comforting.