So I come by sewing honestly, plus the fact that not many clothes fit me in my teen years (a girl child of the 60's and 70's wasn't usually 6 feet tall, so I had to sew if I wanted clothing.)
In my more than 40 years of sewing, I've never sewn myself, until now. Last Wednesday, April 29, the needle went through my finger.
I was glad Bob was home to bandage it for me.
Then I went on sewing. (I had a deadline!)
Has one of your favorite activities ever turned on you? (A cook with pudding in the face, a painter sitting on a wet bench, an animal trainer with a squirrel up the pant leg...)