I don’t know what it is about 2014, but I have been on my game this entire year.  No lie.  All 2 days of it.  Yesterday, there was much scrubbing and wiping and putting away.  There was also exercise and dinner made.  While I’m toot-toot-tooting my own horn, I’d also like to mention that not once so far have I forgotten to feed my dog.  Considered re-homing him, definitely.  But he’s been fed consistently and so we’re still winning.
Today, there was dishes doing and laundry switching and vacuuming of carpet and car seats.  And then, I got down to the fun part – my new space!  A place of my own, a space to create – a haven.  A not-chaotic, made just for me, haven.  Bear in mind that all things are relative, but to me, this little corner of the spare bedroom is sitting at the end of the rainbow, shooting wishing stars and french-braiding unicorn manes, awesome.  I have been doing all of my work off of either a $10 yardsale table that is octagonal shaped, or the coffee table downstairs, so pretty much anything would be a bump up.
Enter: The consignment store sewing table!  (It’s worth it to note that I have 0 amount of prejudice as to the origins of these tables.  If I had grabbed this table off of a garbage barge on a hot summer’s day, I’d still love it just as much.  After a thorough bleaching, of course.)
See that??  That sweet little made-for-my-new-machine table?  Let’s have a closer look-see, shall we?
Now my quilts can just skim across that table top, moving like the music of my soul.  Or at least NOT like a blanket that is draped over a pile of books and getting pushed and pulled back and forth and sometimes catching but maybe not quite.  In a word, the fact that the table is level with the sewing… place… (?) is bliss.
But wait!  There’s more!  You saw those swanky drawers on the left-hand-side, right?  Or you thought you did…
Ta-daa!  Not drawers at all, but rather the perfect place I’ve been wanting for keeping thread all not jumbled up.  Storing things inside of pickle jars is fine for stuff that is compact, like nails or crayons or pickles.  But storing thread… well, its a mess.  There’s a reason they’re not called “thread” jars, and it has nothing to do with the fact that pickles come in them.

Anyhow, one thing I love about this little table is that, thanks to its previous owner, it has already been outfitted for all of the things a sewist such as myself would want.  All those small pieces to my sewing machine, like the screwdriver and the feet and the piece that I’m not sure what it is?  That little bin right on the door keeps them handy and out of the way.  And the most perfect thing I ever did see?
Like. A. Glove.
I’ve decided to keep my old Brother (hehe… my brothers…) because of those fancy stitches it can do.  Mostly for the zig-zag and the button holes, really.  My mew Juki, she’s the star of the show up top.  But you can’t just get rid of your Brother!  That’s illegal! (Unless he’s younger than 6 months old, in which case it is perfectly legal to leave your brother at a fire department.  This has been a PSA.)
The rest of the room is in flux still, because there’s a few things that need to be moved that can’t be moved without another set of hands, and RileyGirl wasn’t feeling particularly helpful today.  Girl has got to start pulling her weight at some point.  Sheesh!  But handsome will be home soon enough, and then things will be moved and the other side of the room won’t look like this anymore:
So now that things are coming together, I’ve got the itch to get to making again.  The nightmare that was Bono & The Christmas Sweatshop (name of a terrible 80’s exercise video???) has been all but forgotten, and I’m feeling the creative juices flowing!  Which is good, since I still have about 4 Christmas presents left to make, and I’ve got to order my cow hide this week.

Have you been doing any extra cleaning this year?  Have you been making anything?  Have you fed your dog?  Do you want my dog?  So many questions!

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