I love to sew. I am a maker of things. Most of the things I make (that invlolve sewing), I sew by hand; and every once in a while, as I'm squinting at the tiny stitches I've been making for the past hour and a half, I wonder why.
Then, I vow to get some more use out of my sewing machine. It's perfectly lovely, easy to use, and I have SO MANY THINGS that I want to make. Surely, it would go faster if I hauled out the machine, right?
Step 1: Unearth the machine. This often involves moving things from in front of the shelf. Boxes, bags, laundry baskets... that sort of thing. Then I've got to remove the books, bags, notebooks, balls of wool, and other assorted things I don't want the children to get that have been stuffed in around the machine. Now, I've got the machine out.
Step 2: Find somewhere to sew. I don't want the girls to end up with pins in their feet, or tripping over the cord stretched across the room to the only usable outlet; so the obvious choice of dining table is out. I could go upstairs and use my grandma's table; but I don't really feel like carrying the machine up the stairs. I suppose I could use a card table and a folding chair in the bedroom, but that's a whole extra pain in my butt.
So I end up doing this:
After a while of sewing, hunched over the machine, with my knee lodged in my ear so that I can use the foot pedal, I remember why it is that I don't use the machine more often. Which brings me to...
Step 3: Bury the machine again.