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Meet Chef Evelyn!

We’re in the homestretch for Jack’s co-op with Rockwell Collins so I’m scrambling to do some things that I’ve put off all summer, partly because I just want to check it off my list but mostly because it is something I really want to do.  My poor sewing machine and I haven’t gotten as acquainted as I’d like and I fear the moment we move home, she’s going to be put off even more in favor of pressing home improvement projects.  I could go into great detail describing the exact location of my desired craft area but I figure I’ll show you when we get around to fixing up that room, hopefully over the winter.
To date, I have completed one sewing project with my machine.  It was a pillowcase dress I made for Evelyn and it was fairly amateur.  I went back and fixed the neckline and attached the belt so it is in much more flattering on her now than the below photo.  She has yet to wear it though–I kept forgetting it at home.

Wow, that fabric is vibrant!  I think we were in desperate need of some summer vibes that day.

So, I decided today was the day for project number two–an apron for (who else?) Evelyn.  She doesn’t mind being my guinea pig and she’s not very choosy or critical.  If my lines aren’t stick straight, she’s okay with that.  For now.

Evelyn loves craft time.  Unfortunately that means rummaging through my stuff.  At least she ignored the scissors and other generally sharp, pokey items.
I was lucky I had all of the items on hand so this made for a pretty quick project, barring the few mistakes I made like the bias tape not quite getting attached along the entire hemline or the bobbin running out of thread.  They were all fairly painless fixes.  I have to say though thank goodness for seam rippers.
She’s set!  Seven layer bars anyone?  (I prefer mine without the nuts, so it’s really only six layers I guess).

After all was said and done, Evelyn paid me the best compliments.  Not only did she tell me she liked it, she asked to eat lunch with it on.  After the meal, she shed crocodile tears, saying she simply could not bear to part with it during her nap and did not want to take it off.  “Fine,” I rolled my eyes.  (Shh! Don’t tell her I’m secretly pleased how attached she is already).  I foresee a meltdown when we go to the store and I try to trick her out of her apron.  I’m not really sure though how I’ll explain to anyone why my little girl is skipping through the aisles with a pink apron on.  Oh, well.  I’m just glad she likes it.

***Itching to make an apron for your babe?  Here’s an simple tutorial to try.***

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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