Meet The Tank.
The Tank belonged to my mother, and now it belongs to me: 30 pounds of quality machine from the early 1970s. I am loyal to The Tank; it's been very good to me.
I’ve always known that I’d be happiest in a home where I was surrounded by my own creative output, and moving out of a dorm and into this blank canvas of an apartment has given me that opportunity. My workspace is still being excavated out from under a mountain of cardboard (which would be the makings of an excellent fort if I didn’t have a day job) and I’m slowly getting into the swing of making stuff again.
Making stuff here is different than it was before; I've just moved in with my guy, Fix. A nesting instinct must've kicked in, because I'm making practical things. Quite a step in a new direction for the woman who started sewing because she was displeased with the quality of commercially-made capes. I got a little carried away with this "practical" business, however, and decided to make cloth napkins.
Twenty dollars and three hours later, I have six napkins, some vaguely burned fingers (I'd never used Fix's iron before) and a little more wisdom than before. It was a good project for getting used to my new workspace and making friends with The Tank again. In conclusion: I love sewing, but making napkins isn't worth the time or the money.
Slightly less practical: my ambitious plans for the leftover napkin fabric.