At some level, all of my crafting is a study on imperfection.  Yet sewing, sewing holds a special place in my heart when it comes to wanting to rip things out and throw them away.

My friends might roll their eyes to hear me tell it (again and again), but I was turned away from a sewing club in middle school because my stitches weren’t straight!  Obviously, I never got over it.  And my stitches STILL aren’t straight.

Luckily (or, more like, through a great deal of effort) I’ve learned to hold more forgiveness for myself in my adult life.  In my most recent project, and what will be the first quilt I’ve ever completed, I’m watching those crooked stitches -not one the same size as it’s neighbor- stretch across the denim like fence posts dotting a pasture.  The fence in question might be a little rickety and wandering, but it’s still a fence, right?