Longing
Every time I walk to the train station, I pass a shop that sells sewing machines. They have Bernina, and Singer, and Janome, and Brother. They all sit in the window ready to be used and I just glance quickly at them and hurry on my way.
I would love to have a sewing machine to use here, but I can't justify the time suck that it would become, nor can I justify the amount of money I would funnel away from the travel budget to buy fabric.
So I shuffle quickly past the store and try not to think about it.
This week has been hard not to because it is so rainy and I just want to cuddle up under a quilt. But no one quilts here, and we have nothing resembling a quilt to cuddle under. If I had all of my stash, I would have one whipped up in no time, but I don't.
I shall try to replace quilting with some scrapbooking. I have a great album, and lots of pictures to put in it. Maybe I can get inspired and write captions like Ariel does about all of her travels.
I would love to have a sewing machine to use here, but I can't justify the time suck that it would become, nor can I justify the amount of money I would funnel away from the travel budget to buy fabric.
So I shuffle quickly past the store and try not to think about it.
This week has been hard not to because it is so rainy and I just want to cuddle up under a quilt. But no one quilts here, and we have nothing resembling a quilt to cuddle under. If I had all of my stash, I would have one whipped up in no time, but I don't.
I shall try to replace quilting with some scrapbooking. I have a great album, and lots of pictures to put in it. Maybe I can get inspired and write captions like Ariel does about all of her travels.
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