... and then she wore it!

I did, I really did - I got my lovely Linen Print top all finished, blocked and stitched up in time for me to wear to my Year Twelve ten-year reunion. Okay, not to the proper reunion; I wore it to the gathering the night before, held at The Oaks in Neutral Bay. Here's a shot of the finished product:

The making up was a bit wonky, I'm still not quite as proficient as I could be at this part of the whole process. I don't have a great deal of confidence in my handsewing abilities and so I sew, and oversew, and then around the arm seams, I sew it over once more just for good measure. I don't want this bugger to fall apart, or even need repair. Ever. If it needs repair, this will suggest that I didn't sew it together well enough in the first place.

I blocked and pressed the pieces last Thursday night, and took it with me to Mum and Dad's place on Friday afternoon, and started piecing it together, with Mum keeping half an eye out on me so I didn't make any major cock-ups. By the time I'd left to go home (at about 10.30pm, mind you) I had sewed the top of one sleeve on. I stayed up till past midnight, getting the top of the second sleeve on. I had a really good reason for this, and I'm sure anyone reading this will find me certifiably mad for even planning this... I wanted to be able to keep sewing this together in the car, and I thought if I set it up so there are no detached pieces, this will make it easier.

I like to make life hard for myself, I really do.

And so, in the 33 degree heat that was last Saturday, in among packing and organising my family to go to Sydney for the weekend (which takes a lot. Don't let anyone tell you that packing for a small human must be, logically, easier and quicker than packing for a fully-grown human) I found myself stitching together the pieces of jumper that was to be my attire for that evening. I finished it within minutes of arriving at our hotel, and this was within minutes of needing to be dressed and hurrying down Military Road to the pub to meet up with my classmates. Ooh, I like to live on the edge, me.

The best part of the evening (apart from wowing people with my talent for making my own clothes - not. Strangely, I think people take a bit of a view of pity on those of us who enjoy knitting our own garments. Something along the lines of "That's so clever of you? Yeah - I buy my clothes!" he he. Nah, I know there wasn't any pity praise. It's just the way that non-knitters look at the whole labour of love). Where was I? The best part of the evening, apart from my putting away scary amounts of wine, which while fun at the time, bit me squarely in the arse the next morning. At 5.30am. When Wonderboy decided to get up.

Aack. Back to the point. The point! The best part of my evening was when I, nervous, dressed and ready to go, crouched down in front of Wonderboy to say goodbye. My beautiful, beautiful little 19-month-old boy reached up and held my ears and said "Pitty". I asked, "You think Mummy's pretty?" And my darling looked at my face, and said "Pitty Mummy. Ear!"

I have the most beautiful ears in the world. Wonderboy said so.