I'm in love

Sewing with my grandmother was always a happy thing, so when I was looking to start a new hobby a little over a year ago, it made sense to return to making things with fabric and thread.  I took a class and bought myself a basic Janome.  We've bonded, my reliable little machine and I.  She's been wonderful, if a bit overworked. Here she is working away on my buzzsaw quilt.

(Please forgive the messy workspace.  I'm not the tidiest quilter you'll ever meet.)

But lately my mind has been wandering:

I adore this machine. I've had the opportunity to use one on a few occasions, and she sews like a dream.  There are more fancy things on this sewing machine than I probably know what to do with, but I don't care. I freely admit to being won over by bells and whistles in this case, even if it is slightly shallow.

So what's a girl to do?  I've been setting aside some extra funds for a while; it might even be time for a fabric diet (it's unlikely that I could stick to it).  I do love my sewing time, after all ...

I'm sure Janome understands, and I would make sure she went to a good home.  Really.