OK, 5 ladies took her up on it. *I* was forced to take it by my husband.
The reason he "consistently and firmly encouraged" me was because two years ago my dad got me a sewing machine for Christmas. I had asked for one but not to learn how to sew. I wanted one so when my old skirts from the local thrift store unraveled (again), I wouldn't have to remedy them with safety pins and Scotch tape. I had in mind one of the machines in WalMart, the kind that sews a straight line.
My dad got me this:
I didn't know what I had until I mentioned to my friend Sara on the phone that I had just gotten an intimidating-looking sewing machine with a computer screen.
"What kind is it?" she asked. I read her the name on the front of the machine.
Sara gasped and then I heard nothing for a few seconds. "That's not fair! You don't even sew!" Sara sews. In fact, Sara sews shimmery shirts by the seashore. (Say that 10 times fast.) She made this awesome quilt for my baby girl.
Anyhow, I didn't care if it was a Bernina or a Bert, it had a computer screen on it and came with the King James version of the manual. So, it sat unexplored for two years. Things with unraveled hems and torn sleeves piled up in my laundry room.
Enter Sewing Lady Carol. Mix in my husband's firm urging. The Bernina Activa 220 was coming out!
Carol was nice enough to come to my house and get the machine out of its bag and set it up for me. She even plugged it in! After watching her push buttons and enticing the machine to make whirring sounds, the computer thing didn't look quite as intimidating.
Carol gave me a supplies list for the class. It contained things I had never heard of, things like a hem gauge, and Milliner's needles, and ThermoLamb.
"We've been locked in this freezer by the evil Dr. DoodlyPoo. Who will save us?"
"ThermoLamb to the rescue! Stand BAAAA-ck! "
I walked into JoAnn Fabrics with my list looking like a freshman on her first day of high school trying to figure out where her classes are located. I asked no less than 3 sales associates for help finding things. I'm sure I caught one of them slightly rolling her eyes. I got my supplies. Except for the fabric, they were all teeny tiny things that all fit in the palm of one hand. Nevertheless, the sales receipt tells me I paid over $40 for my handful of sewy things.
Am I rambling? ThermoLamb! Help me get to the point!
"BAAAA-ck on track, evil wanderer!"
This is the fabricy stuff.
This is me with Bernina, that wicked digital witch.
(You know, she ain't half bad. I push buttons and she makes designs and letters.) (People! She even THREADS THE NEEDLE FOR ME!)
This is the result.
Check it! We were supposed to make potholders and I totally WENT ON MY OWN and also made an oven mitt. Granted, it's made for someone with an inhuman thumb (luckily, I know someone with such a thumb), but daggone it, it handles hot stuff. It only took me 11 hours to make that sore-thumb potholder. (No, my "1" key didn't stutter.) Mostly, I repeatedly sewed and ripped apart the thumb and the little hanging tab. Sew, rip. Sew, rip. Sew, (temptation to swear), rip. Sew, (grit teeth), rip.
Oh, did you also notice the matching dishtowel, HMMMMM??
As for the sewing class itself, I was on pins and needles the first day and batting I'd hate it. Just cutting the fabric for the project almost had me in shears. The other ladies had previous sewing experience, and I could tell that I was just not cut from the same cloth. I hemmed and hawed for a while, but did I quilt? Knot me! I asked the instructor as many questions as I fleeced, adopted a measure of patience, and soon enough, I was bob-bob-bobbin along on my potholders. An iron will takes one a long way. When my potholders were finished, I felt zipper great about myself!
All in all, it was a sew-sew experience.