I’ve spent the morning reading craft blogs and sighing dramatically into my coffee. Why can’t I sew? Why? I wish that I was a fabric-collecting sort of person. Someone who whips up a purse with those little round plastic handles before lunch, then a few cute stuffed toys during naptime, and ends the day with a bobbly-topped hat and mitten set. I think I could do it if I could just find a class or something to help me get started. It’s weird that for someone so impatient and messy I love crafty things so much, even though I’m not really good at them I just keep trying (so unlike me, the giver-upper extraordinaire). Every few weeks I google “sewing classes Connecticut” and come up with a big fat zippo nothingo and sigh some more into one of my endless coffee cups. I’m desperate, desperate, desperate to make a purse – just look at this, certainly not to be found in stores. I need one of these!! I also found…

I started this post a while ago, and now I wonder, what did I find? What am I missing out on that had me so entranced then? I don’t know, but Etsy is like a sort of depressing porn for me. Oh, look how cute! I bet I could make that! ….Only, no, that’s a lie. I’m totally lying to myself. I couldn’t make anything close to that. But this! This is cute! I could… no, never mind, I couldn’t. It’s a good thing I can do easy stuff like felt monsters.

P.S.  I see you reading me, internets.  At least one or two of you.  Would you comment if I did first, to make it more inviting?