I Almost Killed the Messenger

I'm in the last minute preparations stage for our travel adventure. I'm trying to not pack up everything in the house. Like before most trips, I overestimate the trunk capacity of my super sweet 2000 Toyota Corolla. I've vowed this time to not have stuff piled on either side of A. I hate to look like the Clampetts have rolled into The Sunshine State. But I'm starting to look at my large duffel and pile of things to bring, and I'm beginning to think it's unavoidable.

I'm bringing lots of goods for my sister and family, because that's how we like to do things. It goes both ways, though. I know for a fact that my six-year-old niece has fashioned some hand-crafted goodness for my little sister (who's barreling across this great nation of ours as I type this...wheee!!).

I decided that I needed to sew something for the kiddos, because my niece thinks handmade goods are just grand. (She once commissioned me to sew embroidered pillowcases for her birthday sleepover, and her project management was brutal. She'd ask me every chance she got how things were progressing, and she made sure I was well aware of her party/my deadline date. At one point I said to her, "Hey, I'm not a sewing machine." She replied, "You're my sewing machine." ouch.) Keeping in mind that the one thing my sister needs less of in her house is useless stuff, I asked her if bags would be useful. Turns out they could use some for their Bibles on Sunday morning and for library books, so I put together these messenger bags from a new pattern I have.

As with all of my sewing projects, there was the inevitable moment in the construction process where I sat looking at my pieces and my instructions and wondered if my brain would ever comprehend where this was supposed to go. I can count about 30 minutes total where I sat on my sewing room floor thinking, "Ok, if this goes like this, and if this goes like this, and if by 'inside the lining' they mean 'all of the pieces inside the lining' then maybe this time my straps won't be sewn into the lining. Maybe?" And I have to say that my seam ripper and I got very close during this process. There was a time when I thought, "If I never see the instructions for this child's messenger bag again in this life, that will be fine with me." I also thought, "I can't believe I have a B.A. in English, and my reading comprehension is this bad." Then I remembered all of times that I had teachers tell me that I didn't read directions thoroughly. All of these things conspired to make me feel kind of bad...to the point that I almost rid myself of this project completely.

But then I thought of those blonde-headed babies toting these bags to Sunday school, and I chose to stand by the child's messenger bag. And I even made one for myself with the remnant of fabric I found for $4.50 at the craft store. (Can I just say how elated I was to find a remnant of fabric that I had actually wanted? Has that ever happened, ever?) It's now my favorite bag, I think.

Like so many things, I'm glad I stuck with it and didn't stop the production dead in its tracks. I had to snap a photo of mine, my nephew's, and my niece's, just to be able to later appreciate the perseverence required to complete these bags. (Yes, I realize that I said only about 30 minutes were spent in crazed frustation, but it was a long 30 minutes. And I persevered, didn't I.)

Happy trails! (or trials, because it would be nice if all of those ended up happy too...like mine with these bags)