I hope my recipient sockpal reads this at some point. I really, really do. Other than the fact that making her socks was a lot of fun, the stitch markers were fun and the charts were fun, she should know one little detail about me personally. I CAN'T SEW...
This morning this brilliant idea popped in my head. She needs a little monogrammed bag to put those stitch markers in. It shouldn't be too hard, it's just a little bag. Well, the monogram was no problem. There are yards and acres and miles of cross stitch fabric and thread here. I used to do counted cross stitch exclusively. Found a nice little chart for an old English style lettering. Stitched her initials on the fabric and went to the sewing machine. Ahhhh, the sewing machine. It was Christmas gift about 20 years ago. Don't know why a sewing machine, never did know, never will know unless it's that thing where people think if you do anything with any kind of thread or string, you must sew. Picked it up out of the corner, knocked all the accumulated dust off it. Figured out how to thread the bobbin and away we went.
Well, the best intentions and all, it's heinous. She's getting it anyway. It's got her initials on it. It can't go live with anyone else. It's like those little pug faced mixed breed dogs that need dental work. You know, so ugly someone has to love it.
I'm sure the kind hearted who read this will be saying "It's OK, she'll appreciate it anyway." If only you saw her blog. The girl can sew. For real. Clothes and stuff. Gotta laugh, it's funny in a warped little way. As soon as the swap is over, you get to see pictures of it in all it's 'glory'.