In some ways, "bagging" has replaced blogging.
What I mean is that spending my "slush time" at the sewing machine usually means there's no time left for writing. It's as though there is a certain daily amount of energy and time deposited into my creativity account and once its gone- its gone. I miss blogging. And I love sewing.
After taking a break from the computer over Christmas break, I tiptoed back into the Darfur project wondering if the fifteen minutes of airtime were over. Wondering if it would be discouraging to post bags in January after the excessiveness of December. Wondering if that dreaded inevitable day had dawned where the bags for Darfur were passe. Last year. Old news. Yesterday's passing fancy. Wondering if I ought to picture myself sincerely yelling into the wind-- hey! Looka here! Buy a bag! Hellooooooo?? And then feeling kind of alone and embarrassed.
(yes, I've heard of melodrama. Pride. Paranoia.
Just never quite figured how to rid myself of all those troubles)
Sometimes, on rare occasions; I love being wrong.
It was so good to be back!
I saw the familiar names and a few that might be new. I saw bids and little waves with the scent of love about them. And I even got a new bidder.
Happy, happy moments those are.
Turns out that the new bidder became a new bag owner.
I waited for the e-mail to arrive, indicating where to send the bag to.
Instead, my daughter came home from school with an envelope-
Our mystery bidder was no one from Alaska, New York, U.K., or Sweden.
She was the sewing teacher at the local high school where my daughters attend.