Grand visions..grand designs

You know, when I get the sudden urge to dabble in crafty things, someone should hit me over the head.

I had this idea to make bookmarks. Not just any old bookmark mind you, but superduper bookmarks, the kind that sell in stores, ,you know, professional like.

So off I go to the store in the rain, yes I, the impatient one, must do it today in gale force winds and pouring rain. So, here I am browsing the satin ribbons of every colour imaginable, then I move on to all the bells and whistles which I am to sew, yes I said sew, onto the satin ribbon.

Now, the thing is, needle and thread go together, but if you add me into the equation, things happen, things go wrong. It turns ugly and my husband hides all the knives, you get my meaning.
Sewing is something I never managed to master, much to my mother's horror.
Sewing is always depicted as something soothing, gentle, relaxing, a woman in a flowery dress sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, sewing contentedly while perhaps humming a tune.
Sadly that scene has never, ever happened in my house.
When I pull out the sewing box, which my mother once bought for me and I believe she was secretly laughing when she did so, everyone hides. Even the dog leaves the room.
For everyone in the family knows that once I have the sewing box in my hand, I become demonic. I turn red in the face, steam spurts from my ears, the odd 'curse' erupts from my tightly clenched teeth as I try to ape my ancestors and sew up a tear, hem the children's trousers or simply attach a button.

Yet, despite my history of war on sewing, despite the fear that fills me at the thought of sewing a fine row of stitches, I decide to create bookmarks -beautiful satin ribbon bookmarks with golden little bells, that twinkle...

What was I thinking....

....hide all the knives....