Obi one

In the last seventeen years I have used my sewing machine exactly five times. Four of these times have been during the last fortnight*. Sitting down and sewing...it's a good feeling. But why now? I think it's a combination of having the machine now permanently set up, having at my fingertips a whole bunch of lovely bits and pieces of fabric that I emancipated from Mum's sewing room, reaching some kind of peak in my long held desire to make my (our) own clothes, and seeing this, which of all the beautiful things I see in my travels around the blogosphere, somehow managed to trigger something in me that said, yes, I could have a go at something like that.
So, this is my second attempt at a 'scarf'. Actually, it's kind of weighty, so maybe it's more of an obi, or even a turban if you're feeling adventurous. (Whatever it is, it needs a good iron). It was fun to make, and I learned a lot. Such as sometimes when you think you're sewing in a straight line, you're really not, and that there is a really good reason that you can use different thread colours for your spool and bobbin.

*Mark's response on reading this: 'And all this time we've been carting that damn thing all over the country?!'

Bag lady

For the last few days Martha has been (literally) dragging around a tatty old plastic shopping bag filled with 'very important' scavenged items - nuts, squashed sultanas, broken pens, hair clips, a mobile phone - from which she will not be parted (like a Womble, makin' a use for the things that she finds, things that the everyday folk leave behind). I've been wanting to make a little bag for her for ages, but just haven't had (or made) the time to sit down and do it. But today, I could bear that horrible plastic no longer. In a forty minute gap between two work interviews I madly cut and sewed at express speed to produce this. It's not my finest moment in handcrafting, but it was one of the most satisfying. As I was ironing it she was standing beside me going 'woof! woof! arf! arf!' (she likes to mix up her dog barks) and when I handed it over, she squealed with delight and ran off to fill it with...stuff.
Er...yes, that is a pair of my undies around her neck. Apparently she feels naked without them.

When we finally unhooked the bag from her arm so that she could have her bath, I had a little peek at what was inside. That's right girls, never head out without a disembodied action man face. You never know when you might need it.