Receiving the parcel was not as easy, which was the fault of UPS, though, not Air Miles. After leaving a "sorry we missed you" note on my door despite me having been here when they supposedly rang the bell, they directed me to the closest UPS store for pickup of my parcel. But alas, when I arrived there on a Saturday morning, I discovered that the parcel was nowhere to be found.
The sole employee working in the store was worse than useless. His repeated response to any and all questions (there were two other customers there with the same problem), was, "They are UPS. We are the UPS store. We are not affiliated in any way." Ummmm, what now? I think they must be affiliated in a greater degree than say, oh I don't know, Pringles chips and the UPS store? But apparently, that is kooky talk. There was absolutely NOTHING the UPS store-that-is-not-affiliated-in- any-way-with UPS employee could do to help us locate our packages.
All we could do was check the online tracking system (which of course said that our packages were at the UPS store), and wait. Mine did finally arrive on the Monday at around 7:30 in the evening. When I asked the driver what might have happened he claimed total ignorance, but said that when he came on shift that day, his boss directed all of the drivers not to deliver anything to that particular UPS store. Hmmmm... the plot thickened. Actually, that's where the plot ended, for me at least. I was just so happy to have my new sewing machine, I didn't bother filing any sort of complaint. My mom thinks that the store manager was stealing Air Miles packages and selling the contents on EBay.
So anyway, back to the machine. I should probably mention at this point that I have no clue how to sew. I did take a class in high school, but all of the knowledge I accumulated there has been surpassed in my brain by more useful information like my ATM pin and lyrics to some truly horrible songs. I don't think I had enough patience for sewing back then. It's possible that's still the case, but I think I'm more relaxed now and more forgiving of myself.
I'm enamoured with the sights and sounds of sewing - the variety of colour in the bolts of fabric at the store, the lovely crinkly sound of a pattern as it is pinned, the hum of the sewing machine, the perfect imperfections in a handmade piece. I even read sewing blogs despite not knowing what they're talking about. (Dolly Clackett is my fave - Roisin cracks me up, and her handmade dress collection is truly awe inspiring.)
When I took the machine out of the box it gleamed with shiny newness. I looked at it and saw endless possibilities for what I might use it to create. I gathered fabric scraps from my mom and a neighbour. I dusted off the sewing kit I received as a gift many moons ago. I bought a book on sewing basics and starting watching the DVD tutorial that came with my machine. I set up the machine on a table I had cleared for just this purpose. Aaaaaand, you guessed it, there it has sat, untouched for nearly two months.
I know there are several reasons for this. I'm busy getting back into the swing of things after an illness, I got the machine when I did because Air Miles sometimes removes rewards when they sell out and I didn't want that to happen here, I want to have sewing as a winter hobby, yada, yada, yada. I think the real truth though, is that I'm letting that damn machine get the better of me. It's silently taunting me, and I worry that I will try my hand at sewing and fail yet again. And that my dreams of having some handmade clothing and curtains hemmed to a proper length will never see the light of day.
I think I can conquer this demon though, if I give myself permission to fuck it up and try again, and again. Everything takes practice, and this isn't a competition. And who knows, maybe I will surprise myself. If the ladies of Underworld on Coronation Street can do it, so can I. I'll keep you posted.