So, I didn't put the sewing machine away. It just SAT there. TEMPTING me! Fiend, it KNOWS that anytime I touch it death is imminent. My bobbin gets tangled, It ends up with large amounts of sadness. Sad sad sad sadness. Despite that, I once again sat down in front of this device of torture. I have an addiction, a bad one. I love collars. I luuuuuuuurve them. So I made one. And it turned out OK. See?
Little bit more fancy. Yes?
So then I took it ONE step further. I wanted a martingale. I WANTED one. Yes, she already has a ton but none like THIS!
So, I guess the machine did not explode. I am making more collars tonight. Wish me luck. By the way, all collars made of things found around the house!