Feeling Very Jane Austen-y

I daresay what an awful mother I am for I have reared two sons who feel obliged to have their rooms cleaned by moi.   Oh pul-leeze, don’t wag your little finger at me.  For you see, I’m a messy ‘messer’ myself.  So it was inevitable that I would birth much the same. 

Ahhh, if only I had a girl.  Perhaps one who possessed qualities of Miss Martha Stewart?  That would be a very good thing indeed.  For my heart would burst into song with the hum of the vacuum cleaner in her hands, my eyes will twinkle as she danced around the room with her feather duster and my toes will tap to mairzy doats as she and her little birdies and mice friends… Oh wait…that fairy tale is already taken….sigh.

Filled with woe for a child that never was, I feel a singularly strong urge to drink but instead I sew.  With needle and thread in hand, I am happy.  Inspired by Mairuru, my sewing machine is left idle, while I think myself as Miss Elizabeth, sewing in the parlor, whilst drinking tea.  As I sew I wonder if Miss Elizabeth suffered as much needle intrusions into her skin as I have….ouch..ouch..ouch!

In the end I love my hand sewn drawstring pouch for ipods and such.  With every stitch done in reverie and calming my thoughts to create for the sake of creating.


I am so inspired by this project that I plan to continue to hand sew until my fingers have tired of being a pin cushion.

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