Oh no! I purchased a sewing machine:
My mother tried to re-teach me the art of sewing. I pretended to pay attention, but in all honesty I'm intimated by "the brother" (the actual sewing machine). Which is completely odd since I'm perfectly okay holding power tools. She said, once I got the hang of it, I'd become a sewing machine addict (probably the reason why I haven't touched it since). However, there was one cute thing that came out of our sewing adventure-this Flat Iron Pouch. I know a totally mundane work, so not modern, more like country crafting Vera Bradley. Regardless of the style, my Flat Iron needed a home - I cried for mommy and mommy delivered (under my direction of-course I prefer being a Project Manager sometimes). So as the saying goes "Abracadabra,Wala, my Chi has a home".
Now, what to do with this brother in my closet?