When I was 5 or so, I learned how to sew. Nothing crazy- maybe a couple stitches in a scrap piece of fabric. My mom sewed and I wanted to be just like her. I loved spending time with her in fabric stores and it was such a special treat to sit near my mom while her sewing machine ran, creating my next outfit or the latest craft fad of the early 90s. I remember one time creating a “dress” for my mom by cutting out what I thought a general dress shape looked like, and then hand sewing the whole thing. I’m not sure that my creation could fit someone bigger than a 3-year old, but my mom loved it just the same.

In my early teens, I started sewing for myself. I used patterns from “big four” companies with fabric that might not be suitable for the job ( but hey- this pink floral quilting cotton is PERFECT for a blouse that I will TOTALLY wear all the time). At that time, my shape didn’t require too many adjustments or alterations to the pattern. Maybe it did and I didn’t care. Either way, I loved that I had the ability to make something that you couldn’t find at The Gap or American Eagle.

College came and my tiny dorm room didn’t have room for a sewing machine, let alone a collection of fabric that I amassed over the years. With my sewing habit on hold (except for weekends and breaks at home) I searched for other creative outlets. I graduated with a degree in Graphic Design ( and some other crap) and moved into my first space that had room for a sewing machine.

Early twenties- the economy really sucked and jobs were hard to come by, but sewing was the one hobby that kept my spirits up. I met my future husband Matt and we moved in together. He didn’t judge my need to constantly add to my fabric collection (at least to my face). I bought my first decent sewing machine with my own dollars- an Elna. We’re still together to this day and boy has that girl gotten me through some rough stuff.

After living in Boston for quite some time Matt, Elna and I packed up my fabric collection and moved to Chicago. Things were great, but something was missing. Something furry and energetic and full of unconditional love…

Enter Ernie,  or should I say “Twix”. “Twix” came to us via the Illinois Animal Rescue. Advertised as a “lab/newfoundland mix,” Matt wanted a dog big enough “that he could ride to work” and I just wanted a big fluffball. “Twix” sounded like the perfect dog. February 15, 2012, we drove down to the southern suburbs of Chicago and brought Twix, now named “Ernie” home with us in a laundry basket surrounded by blankets tucked in the back seat. He was so little and quiet and didn’t bark for six months. He is 100% adorable and a rascal dog 75% of the time, but the adventures we have together are so worth it.