Admire the red box. This actually arrived yesterday. After the day I had (an entirely different post that I should probably write, but who knows. If you see me in person, remind me to vent about it!) the closest this machine came to being used was being taken from its box and placed on the dining room table. Where it sat, lonely—or so I was told.

This annoyed the Boy and IZ to no end. Being the techno people they are, a new machine is a thing to be explored and discovered. What does this button do? How do you make it do that? A person should not rest until they have exhausted every pushable button and have read the manual through thrice. Spend an afternoon with them and you become an expert.

I wasn’t born with this gene. I like to ease into these things gradually. You know, take my time. Get used to just looking at the machine first. Then approach it. I tend to not bother with manuals until I need them. Oh? My bobbin is empty–guess it’s time to learn how to fill that. The machine came preloaded with thread and that screams, “Jump right in, the water’s nice” to me. And I would have, if my head hadn’t been threatening to explode.

I’m not sure who is more excited about this, to be honest. My kid kept jumping up and down exclaiming, “This is great, it’s like a gift for ME!” However, the arrival of new machine put a bit of crimp in our sewing arrangement. The big question: where to put the boy? As I promised him my old machine, which he affectionately calls, “Ol’ Rusty”, it wasn’t fair to not set him up to sew someplace. Before I could even begin to think about exploring today, I set to work making space for the kiddo in my office/playspace/craft room. (An aside: I honestly have no idea what to call that space. But, we need to settle on a name soon, because it’s annoying me greatly to fumble around for a name. Now that the boy is sharing the space, I don’t think we can call it my retreat!)

I thought my arrangement was clever. This way we can both sew at my table, but not bump into each other. Leave it IZ to find the humor in it. When he brought up my machine for me (I’m still too chicken to carry it anywhere–um, hello, I’m not exactly graceful!) he observed, “Welcome to Wende’s little sweatshop” as the boy was already busy sewing at his machine.

I have to admit, I admire the contents of the red box: especially for its motivational influence. The boy got through his math and science in record time and was all over me to begin by 2. We spent 2 hours today hanging out in our new sewing space. I have to tell you, it was non-stop negotiation. “So, you think next year when the new models are coming out, dad can buy you a better machine and I can have your new one??” And, “How about we make a deal, you let me use your machine at least twice a week? OK??” And, “I’m thinking that by next year, I should be good enough that you can trust me to use your new machine on my own, right?” On and on he went. I finally said, “You know, how about you sew up Monica’s Bag Bags on my machine.” How nice am I that I let him sew first? I’m such a first-born!

And that’s what he is doing in the picture above. After every seam he would stop and sigh. There was so much worth telling me about. “I just love the name Husquvarna. They sure make great machines!” And, “You know, Mom, I just love the chug chug sound it makes! It’s so sweet!” And, “You know, Mom, this thing even sews straighter seams!” And, “Wow, I can’t believe I finished this so fast… I would still be working on the first one if I was using Ol’ Rusty!” You all know where this is going, right?? I mean, he’s kinda transparent in his salesmanship. He relies on constant dripping over subtlety. Wonder where he learned that?

I would be remiss if I didn’t include a picture of the view from my sewing machine: dirty screens, window reflection, and fading sunlight included. It’s such an amazing view, I don’t know how much sewing I’ll get done. I think new screens will be in order for the spring and some sweet curtains to frame the view. Who knows, maybe the red box will motivate me and I’ll get around to actually painting my room with a view.