Learning the Hard Way

When I was in my twenties (I can say that now!) I was obsessed with owning a new VW Beetle. I wanted one so badly I could taste it. Maybe I wanted it so badly that I willed catastrophe to happen. ONE month before the FINAL PAYMENT was due on my ’95 Saturn coup; I was T-boned on Atlantic Boulevard in Jacksonville, FL. My little maroon Saturn was pushed up on two wheels. After a series of collisions it had been hit for the last time. The insurance company totaled it, much to my delight.

With two thousand dollars of insurance pay-out in my pocket I went shopping for a Beetle. I didn’t look at any other cars. Though I had never driven a stick shift before in my life, I had it in my head that I wanted a manual transmission. I rationalized that this would stretch my car-buying dollar, but the reality is, I just though stick shifts were far more COOL.

My best friend generously and patiently gave me a few driving lessons in her very fun manual GTI, but I never got very proficient that way. Essentially, when I showed up at the dealership to pick up my freshly detailed new-used Beetle, I was a virtual stick-shift virgin.

I managed to drive my lovely little car off the lot with minimal stalling. However, a combination of nerves and excitement got the best of me at the corner of Southside and Atlantic. I stalled. At the light. No one could get around me. A cacophony of horns and curse words filled the air. I was panicked and upset. I was sure some one was going to shoot me, as light after light cycled through and I still couldn’t get my beautiful white Beetle in gear. The cars behind me were backing up in a horrifically long line. It was a nightmare.

At LAST I managed to find the perfect balance of pressure between my right and left feet, and my little car lurched forward; much to the relief of everyone behind me in the thick of the evening commute. (Did I mention all this took place at the peak of rush-hour traffic?)

I was in tears, and frustrated with myself. I was feeling like a total failure and moron. How could I not master this simple mechanical process? So, I pulled over in the first good-sized parking lot I could find. I circled for HOURS going from a complete stop to first gear, second gear, then back to a stop. Over and over again I chanted in my mind, “first, second, stop… first, second, stop.” Heck, I was probably saying it out loud.

After countless laps around that parking lot, night had fallen, and I finally felt brave enough to venture back out on to the roads. I can’t tell you that I never stalled again, but I can tell you that it was never again took me through a whole cycle of a light to get it together!

I’ve been thinking about my humble beginnings as a stick shift driver a lot lately as I’ve been learning how to use my new sewing machine. The first couples of attempts with my sewing pedal were much like being stuck at that light at the corner of Southside and Atlantic, minus the hordes of angry commuters. And just like with my Beetle I tried to drive off the lot all by myself. Let's just say the first two drawstring bags I made probably aren’t going to get much use. After those two train wrecks, I did what I should have done first; sit at my machine with yards and yards of scrap fabric and just sew straight lines. I was back in the paring lot just getting it in gear.


It has been slow going, but after much practice and a couple of classes at my local Hobby Lobby I finally have completed my first project that I feel like showing off on the web…

I give you my tote bag!


I’m working on something else as well. So, from time to time, I'll be sharing the results of my great sewing adventure!