It's time to break out in Singer.

I am in full-blown domestic mode. It happens sometimes and quickly passes with little action on my part. But this time I mean business. Will is slightly less than thrilled that I ordered a pressure canner from Amazon on Friday. He muttered something about "botulism" and shook his head. So there's a start on that front.

Next up, sewing! Now this is something I sort of used to know how to do. I have no idea now. And the great news is, my mom had hopes that I might actually follow in her and my grandma's footsteps of knowing how to do useful things, and purchased and refurbished a lovely Singer sewing machine for me. Granted, that was probably eight years ago. However, I am ready to pull it out of the Harry Potter cupboard under the stairs, blow the dust off, and make something of and for myself.

The inspiration? The lovely sheeny gold jumpsuit below. Ashley Simpson rarely inspires anything in me but a bit of indigestion; however, no one can argue with a sweet looking seventies-style jumpsuit. It will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine. The main problem with having a fetish for designer duds and simultaneously working in non-profit is quite obvious. When trends come up that aren't worth robbing a bit from my savings account (like a classic trench coat I'd wear forever, etc.), I usually go the $20 route at Forever 21. The result: an ill-fitting, ill-made thing that looks cheap because it is and, in this short jumpsuit's case, might make me look like a bit of a harlot. These items inevitably end up in the Goodwill bag with a "what was I thinking??" look of disgust.

Thus, it is time to learn how to sew. Then I could take that $20, head to Britex, find the perfect fabric and make it fit perfectly! Cheers to a desperate attempt not to run out of steam on this one.