Bessie and me

I bought this used Singer for $50 from a co-worker who'd originally purchased it for her mom. The woman used it once before she fell ill and unable to use it. I bought it sight unseen since the seller works at one of our branch offices.

The day it arrived by interoffice mail felt like Christmas.

When I got the machine home, my excitement turned to apprehension.

Looking through the operating manual, I felt like I'd gotten in over my head. At the kitchen table, I fumbled around and figured out how to load a bobbin and thread the needle. It took me some time - plus a visit from Mom - to learn how to feed the bottom thread up and out of the machine.

It was really frustrating at first and I questioned if I'd ever be able to figure it out. But, through patience and practice, it's starting to make sense.

The whole point of getting the machine in the first place was to try to save money covering the windows around here. I figured I could make my own drapes, so naturally my first projects were curtains -- which have been turning out fairly well. But since getting to know Bessie -- yeah, I named her -- I've realized that there's so much more I could make with her.

For Christmas, I got a book on sewing rag dolls and ever since then, Bessie and I have been cranking out toys for the kids.

The book illustrates how to use old fabric scraps and outgrown clothes to make cute little stuffed animals. Written by a costume designer, the dolls photographed in the book are funky and unusual.

I can read/re-read this book for hours on end.

My dolls, however, are turning out a little less funky and more unusual.

You lookin' at me?

This is Bear. I sewed him for Crowbar using an old pair of socks, blue jeans and flannel shirt. He's a lumpy-bumpy mess because:

1. He's stuffed with scraps that weren't fluffy enough.
2. His hand-sewed stitches are all crooked
3. His body twists unnaturally and I can't figure out how to fix it. (He always looks like he's looking over his shoulder.)

Still... I find Bear endearing.

I think it's because he's wearing a flannel shirt that I made from the sleeve of one of Crowbar's old, outgrown shirts. The flannel is soft and worn and I'm a little sentimental about it. Crowbar wore it during a trip to the ER when he dislocated his elbow. The doctors had to cut his shirt to accommodate the big bandage they put on his arm.

As I sewed Bear together, I kept thinking about how there's a marketing opportunity in sewing toys out of clothes that peoples' kids have outgrown. It's always bittersweet when you pack away certain outfits. There's got to be a market for making sentimental stuffed friends, right?

As I sewed, I envisioned quitting my job and selling hand-made dolls from sentimental castoffs. Together, Bessie and I would spend long afternoons together. I could see me, working in my jammies, sipping coffee and occasionally pausing to watch the birds play at the feeder.

And then I remembered something: I still suck at this.

As evidenced by Exhibit A:

Cute? No. Weird? Yes.

These motley little frogs look like rejects from a Tim Burton movie, but the striped bear's got some merit.

These little projects are still fun and I'm learning so much about fabric, hand-sewing techniques and, of course, Bessie. And the best part is that so far, this has been a very low-cost way to learn to sew. The fabric has all been free or found on the discount pile at Hancock's. The only real investment has been my time.

Much to the kids' delight, I'm continuing to crank out my little beasties. Hopefully the next pictures will show some significant improvement.