Secret Dreams about Spooling

Okay. You know that I can bake a sweet thing. I can also take a decent photograph. I can even organize a film shoot and I can drive a 4 inch nail up my nose. But the one thing I CANNOT do is sew. If a button comes off a shirt or a pair of pants of mine, it's fairly likely that the shirt will end up in the "well-intentioned" drawer (where clothes go to die a slow and painful death, never to be seen again).

I know from whence this affliction came - it started with a mandatory Home Ec. class at MacDonald Drive Junior High School in St. John's, Newfoundland. We had to take Home Ec, by gum, and we had to suffer through things like "making biscuits from a Bisquick mix" and "learning how to vacuum the faux living room that lived in the corner of the classroom". It was a travesty and had as much to do with real life as reality television.

We were issued a sewing assignment. We could either "make a blouse" or "make a complete sample set of basic seams". The first option seemed akin to successfully completing brain surgery with a teaspoon, so I opted for the second assignment. However, I also opted to do it at the LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT (i.e. the night before it was due), and THAT led to a whole pile of tears and frustration and wrestling with our sewing machine. I finally had to bring my heaving sobs to the mums and ask - nay BEG for her help. Luckily she's the most understanding mother on the earth, so she gently pushed me out of the way, and finished the stinkin' homework for me as I stood by sniffling.

When we finished dinner the other night at Les Faux Bourgeois, we strolled down the street and came upon the window of a shop called Spool of Thread. As we pressed our little faces up to the window, we could see a man inside. He saw us too, and came to the door and invited us in for a look-see. It's a brand new sewing school, with some of the most beautiful contemporary fabric you've ever seen.

The counter is made up of over 50 yardsticks that he and his wife collected on ebay.

And as Sarah, Donimo, Mister Man and I puttered about the store, I had this fantastic vision of sewing something. Now, now - it wouldn't be something DIFFICULT like a blouse or a dress. But I could imagine making a funky apron. Or a pillow. A bag. A bunch of really great placemats and napkins. And then I had this vision of me with a bunch of my friends and a big ol' pot of tea taking a sewing class together one Sunday afternoon..... Surely I could make this couldn't I? Or this?

Do you think they could take a non-sewing, phobic schmuck like me, and turn me into someone who could actually MAKE something? I wonder. I really, really wonder..... I think I'd like to find out though!

Signed, your potential sewing wannabe.

(Or am I just plum delusional?)

(Also - if I loathed it, I'll bet I could sweet talk one of the nice instructors into putting the finishing touches on my bag or apron couldn't I???)

*lightbulb goes off overhead*

*gasp* Do you think I could learn well enough to SEW EVERYONE'S CHRISTMAS PRESENTS NEXT YEAR????

*eyes agog*

Okay. Clearly I need a talkin' to.......