To Sew or Not To Sew

Being creative in the ways of fabric is one lesson I have failed miserably at.
I do not know how to sew. At all. I used to know. In fact, I had one of those little red children’s sewing machines as a child. But even then, I was horrible at it.
The Boggs women, on the other hand are all accomplished stitchers, quilters, cross-stitchers, darners, tailors, and the like. I have failed. I can not quilt, nor can I stitch. I can cross-stitch, but here’s where I fail: completing a piece. I have yet to fully complete one pattern. I believe that I am a victim of my generation. No longer can we sit still, exhausting our eyes trying to fit a piece of moss green floss (not tooth floss) on a needle through fabric repeated times. Boring? I don’t think so, but then there’s that movie I wanted to go see, or that band playing at that bar that I rarely go to, but half of my friends are going, so I’ll sit still at the bar and ruin my hearing, rather that sit in the piece and quite of my home and ruin my eyesight. Cynical much? Yes. But only because I am victim to the 21st Century Lifestyle I am living my early adult years in and to my Generation…I think we’re Generation Y??
But this sewing thing I have never been able to get a hold of. Nevermind that every pair of pants I purchase needs to be hemed because NO ONE makes pants for a 6 waist and a 26″ inseam. Believe me it’s CRAZY. Even pants labeled SHORT are 2-3 inches too long. So, I buy these pants and promptly send them off to my mother, who can sew wonderfully, to hem them with the usual 4″ off the top. Then I wait. And wait. Finally I can make that trip to my mother’s house to pick them up, four weeks later.
ah, well…that’s the price you pay for a mother who is still willing to hem her adult daughter’s pants every once and a while. In an act of personal growth, I did put a sewing machine on my Christmas List.
Quilting is also something I need to learn from the Boggs family. But that is another story for another day. In the mean time, I’m going to go curl up in the quilt my aunt made for me when I was born.