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Confessions of a Sewing Addict: The Joys and Trials of Life Stitched Together

Alright, let's just put it out there: I have a problem. No, it’s not my addiction to caffeine, although that certainly helps fuel the midnight quilting marathons. No, dear readers, I’m talking about sewing. My relationship with fabric, thread, and my trusty sewing machine has evolved from a casual hobby to a full-blown obsession. And as we prepare for an impending house move, this addiction is becoming ever more apparent. 

Moving house - and everything is packed, except the sewing supplies. I unpacked those again because I just HAD to do some sewing.

First things first: packing. What a quaint notion. You see, I was congratulating myself on my excellent organisational prowess. Linen—packed. Toys—packed. Dog—packed (okay, maybe not quite that far). Then I set about diligently packing my sewing supplies. “Sewing Room,” read (most of) the labels, and I stood back, admiring the tower of tape-sealed productivity. But like a moth to a flame—or rather, a quilter to a fat quarter—I found myself hunched over those sewing room boxes hours later, scissors in hand, cutting through the tape with the kind of urgency usually reserved for fabric on sale.

What happened next, you ask? Why, I unpacked everything sewing related, of course. The call of the sewing machine was too strong to resist. "Just one more project," I promised myself, like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar. And before I knew it, my sewing room was reassembled in the middle of a room otherwise filled with chaos and cardboard boxes packed with kids toys, kitchen items and everything else that was still packed ready for the impending move.

Now, let's talk about the perks of being a sewing addict, shall we? First, there’s the pure, unadulterated joy of creation. The thrill of transforming a simple piece of fabric into something beautiful, functional, and uniquely yours is like no other. Pretty quilts, handmade garments, gifts that make others marvel at your talent—these are the tangible rewards. And let's not forget the mental health benefits. Sewing is my therapy, my zen garden, my happy place where worries unravel as neatly as a perfectly stitched seam.

But, as with any addiction, there are downsides. For one, there’s the financial aspect. Fabric isn’t free, folks. The cost of all those luscious textiles, the latest sewing gadgets, and endless patterns can add up. My bank account sometimes looks at me with the same disappointment as a seam ripper when you realize you’ve sewn a sleeve inside out. Oops.

The monetary cost of quilting and sewing supplies like tools and fabric can add up quickly, but the joy it brings far outweighs the financial strain on my bank account.

Then there’s the time factor. Time flies when you’re in the zone, and suddenly, those “quick” sewing sessions turn into hours.I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve promised myself, “just one more seam,” only to end up sewing until I’m scrambling to make it to school pick-up on time… and the housework? Still untouched. Needless to say, sleep and social life can suffer. Friends and family may start to forget what you look like, and you might find yourself explaining that no, you can't come out tonight because you’re in the middle of piecing a particularly tricky star quilt block.

Finally, there’s the space issue. Sewing supplies are not exactly minimalistic. Fabric stashes grow faster than weeds, and soon you’ll find yourself needing an extra room (or two) just to house all your beloved materials. This is particularly problematic when moving house, as you’ll need to carefully transport your precious cargo, all the while praying that nothing gets lost or damaged in transit. And then there’s the looming discovery by the husband, who may be inclined to count just how many boxes are labeled "Sewing Room." Handy tip from one addict to another: labeling some of those boxes "Paperwork" or "Girls Bathroom" might keep the questions at bay. Wink, wink.

Sewing machines, fabric, and other sewing supplies luke patterns take up space in the house. This is a picture of my sewing desk in its usual state of creative mess.

In conclusion, being a sewing addict is a mix of sheer delight and mild chaos. The thrill of creation, the therapeutic benefits, and the pride in finished projects are unmatched. Yet, the financial drain, time commitment, and space invasion are real issues to contend with. But despite these downsides, I wouldn’t trade my sewing addiction for anything. After all, what’s life without a few (or a lot) of stitches? So please don’t judge me if my sewing room gets unpacked before the kitchen when we get to the new house, ok?

Happy sewing, fellow fabric fanatics. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a quilt top calling my name. Oh, and if anyone finds a 12-step program for quilters, where we just sit around and chat about our quilting addictions... Wait, is that what a quilting guild is for?

Happy Quilting and Sewing,Rachel