You know how some people have a ‘calling’ in life? In their career, or to be a mum or to do some ridiculous level of goodness? Well, I think I have now identified mine.
I think my calling was to be a 1950’s housewife. The flaw here being that I was born around 60 years too late and don’t have a husband. Not one to be deterred by such minor details though, I am embracing my alter ego with a passion. Because yesterday there was great excitement at Pog Towers. Yesterday, my very first, very grown up sewing machine was delivered!
To take a step back (as they say a lot at work), a while ago I made a pact with myself. I decided that when I had £100 in my pot from selling cards I was allowed to buy something frivolous that I could not justify spending real money on (card money, in my head has evidently developed some sort of ‘unreal’ quality). I set my heart on a huge wooden toadstool to go in the garden. Oversized, overpriced, but very lovely indeed. I met my £100 target a couple of weeks ago and decided to trundle to the garden centre for my prize, only to have second thoughts – it did seem a bit of a waste of money, even unreal money.
And that is when I had my brainwave! If I bought a sewing machine, not only could I run up Pogimals at the speed of light, but I could also work on a whole host of other stuff.
To my amazement, last night I managed singlehandedly and without having to resort to the Pog helpline (calling mum) to wind bobbins, thread the machine and even make a Pogimal (admittedly, it was far from ‘at the speed of light’, but I might get there eventually).
The only real issues I had were that scaredy cat Charlie bolts for the cat flap as soon as the machine makes a noise while hard-as-nails Norman has taken to trying to catch the needle as it sews…
I’m sure the excitement over my new toy is not quite fitting for a singleton in 2011, but hey ho. Now I just have to see if I can make that ‘whole host of other stuff’ with it :o)