Charming Charlie

I have a very love/hate relationship with sewing. When I finish a piece of work I look back as proud as anything, wondering why I wasted so many tears over a silly little item. However, in the creation of said items, I often feel an overwhelming sense to give up. To pack away my sewing machine and throw it deep into the abyss of the under-stair cupboard, along with my fathers golf clubs, and my mothers guitar.

But then I wonder what the point would be of ending a relationship that, although gives me such grief at times, also gives me such a sense of pride and achievment, and ultimate happiness. Its like the old saying goes, when you fall off the horse, you have to jump straight back onto it.

I often thought as a child why my Mum would say such a silly thing. I mean I had fallen off a horse before, and I had such a bruised behind the last thing I felt like doing was getting back on. Then I remeberd the feeling of elation as I rode that Philly through the creek and across the great sandy path through the Aussie bush, and all of a sudden the fall didn’t seem so bad.

Everytime I approach such a beast, I am still terrified, such a stong animal could throw me off or trample me in a matter of seconds. I get the same feeling whenever I sit down to the white beast perched on my dinning room table. Then I grab all sense of bravery, with an exact stitching plan of my said item, and start to sew. Although it may get off to a rocky start, and I may fall off the horse once or twice, the excitement I feel when I am close to the end of the ride is worth the anxiety. And I wouldnt give it up for the world.