Look at that Strange Woman with the Huge Furry Purse

This weekend I whipped up a case for my dulcimer. I pulled out my sewing machine and just sat down and made one.

Wow! Just typing that makes me sound like some kind of seamstress goddess. "I just pulled out my sewing machine and made a [insert wonderful sewn item here]."

But really, it's nothing like that. I enjoy making things (out of paper, beads, glue, wire, pencil and paint, words, cake, dough, batter. . . ) I also love little hand sewn things like the things made here, here, here and here. I'd love to be able to make these kinds of things. But I also know that I have limits. Sewing is not something I generally enjoy. I can hem pants (with much swearing and finger pricking). I can sew on a button (again, with much swearing and finger pricking). And I recently discovered the wonder of iron-on patches for the knees of little boys (and little girls, but especially little boys) pants. What an incredible invention those are! No needle and thread required! And they can be cut into shapes that little boys approve of. (Doodlebug will NOT wear a plain circle or square patch thank you very much!)

At one point I even managed to make an adorable little lady-bug costume for Sweet Pea when she was a baby and it came out beautiful. I also managed to make a damn nice Rennaisance Faire outfit for myself complete with a blouse, skirt, over-dress with ribbons and boning and big loose sleeves. It really came out nice and I always get compliments on it from complete strangers. But something happened in the 7 or 8 years since I've done that. It may be that I just don't have the time for it any more. It takes patience, which I usually have a lot of, but when it comes to sewing it somehow disappears. It also takes time, which is somewhat at a premium right now. And it takes planning - finding or making patterns and picking out coordinating fabrics and isn't something that you can just do on a whim.

But for some crazy reason, I decided to make a case for my dulcimer. With fabric. And a sewing machine. I wasn't able to find a case online that was reasonably priced and that I was sure would fit my instrument (dulcimers come in a lot of different shapes and sizes). So I pulled out my fabric box.

Now, for someone who professes to not like sewing, I have a lot of fabric. A huge Rubbermaid tote full. (I like the idea of sewing, it's just that the actual act of sewing doesn't often live up to the image in my head.)

I pulled out a nice heavy, woven, cotton print in a light turquoise and cream pattern. I traced my dulcimer and cut out some pieces of fabric in the right size. Then I went back to the box searching for a suitable lining. Something that wouldn't clash with the turqoise (red and blue plaid flannel anyone?). In the box was a large piece of fur; something I purchased years ago with the intention of making something cute and fuzzy for Sweet Pea. My husband joked that it would make an excellent dulcimer cover.

And voila! It practically made itself.

There are definite issues with it. If I did it again, there is one major thing I would fix as well as several other minor things, but hey, with all that fur, no one will notice a crooked seam, or a misplaced stitch. They will be all, look at that strange woman with the huge furry purse. What is she doing? Did she really leave the house with that thing? Doesn't she own a mirror?

And I'll be all oblivious as I strut down the street, proudly displaying my homemade (really?) fuzzy dulcimer case.

Yes, it's rediculous. That's what makes it so much fun!


Quack!