A stitch in nine mimes means the safe is on a timer... something, something...

I'm sewing. Not this minute, but after this, I'm going downstairs, I'm picking up a needle, I'm threading said needle, and I'm sewing. I've removed the hood from an old sweatshirt and I'm turning it into a black monster pillow. I don't have very high hopes for success, but I'm trying to find things to do with my hands other than move food from a plate to my mouth.

I've sewn a few things in my time, most notably a Matt doll, which was used as a white elephant gift this past Christmas and is now a Boston terrier's life-partner.

(Thanks for the photo, Hav.)
Sewing has always been one of those things that I knew, in the back of my mind, I'd have to learn someday, like spot-welding or karate, but I've always been kind of intimidated by it. It has all the elements of intimidation: confusing terminology, sharp, pointy things, and everyone I know is better at it than I. But one day I was out of pants with in-tact fastenings, so I took it upon myself to sew on a button. I felt like, well, not like Superman, but... Aquaman. I felt like Aquaman.

So I'm trying to grow in whatever ways I can, and tonight, that means sewing... and watching something ridiculously testosterone-driven while I do so, for balance.

Thank you,
Matt Beers