When I was little, my grandma taught me how to sew. And by sew, I mean that I would sew buttons to my grandpa’s handkerchiefs, and occasionally, I watched my grandma on her sewing machine. She even gave me my own sewing box – small, plastic, and blue, it has served me well over the years.
On the front, I can still see some of the rainbow ink from where I tried to use my “Meghan” rubber stamp. In the bottom of the box, I found a piece of Christmas fabric with buttons and bells sewn all over it, some faded denim that I think I cut off a part of an old jacket when I was like, 12, and finally, a piece of folded and taped paper containing a few beads and appropriately labeled in crayon.
All of this is to say that I finally made an upgrade. I am, in no way, getting rid of this stuff. But I DID finally buy a large sewing box for all my goodies. My little box from grandma just wasn’t cutting it anymore.